#cause i was on my feet a ton for work

[poprockspillage]

fuck around(didn’t bring my cane even though i thought about it) and find out(foot pain when i’m standing and hip pain when i’m laying down)

[doctorwhoisadhd]

also another reason i play picc despite it causing my migraines is because i can use it to win arguments. Like any other instrument you have no right to complain about piccolo being "too high" when i am playing it and it gives ME migraines. like. ok coward. what do u even have to complain about

[kirishwima]

is it reaaally a shitty shift if the ER doctor doesnt snap at you?

[i-am-ki11ing-time]

reconnecting w/ an old friend (who prob also has bpd) w/ whom you've had at least 2 HUGE friendship-ending fights is a good idea right?

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

[stellacendia]

Y'know those comics some artistically-inclined transmasc people make about getting haircuts? Where they feel like the person in the mirror with long hair isn't them and then they cut it and they say "suddenly I see myself"?

I never could fully relate to them- I had long hair for most of my life and I've cut it short and let it grow back out because I just liked having long hair. And the reasons I cut it, every time, had actually very little to do with gender presentation and more to do with executive dysfunction stuff. So I'd see these comics and go 'hmmmm' but move on.

And then I got this most recent haircut. Shortest my hair's ever been since I was a literal baby. And- I cried in the chair at the barber's. I tried so hard not to cause I didn't want the lady to think I hated it- the opposite in fact- but the second she spun me around to face the mirror I just had this moment of 'oh.' And suddenly I completely understood those comics.

I want to happy-stim every time I catch sight of myself in a mirror, I love it that much. I'm going to be looking for excuses for my friend to take pictures of me, I love it that much. I finally feel like my appearance actually reflects the way I see myself and all it took was just a lil haircut.

I thought I'd miss my hair once it was gone- because even with all my conflicting feelings about my appearance I truly did love having it long, and I never saw the hair as the reason why I hated my reflection.

But I don't miss it. And as much as I liked that I love this short cut so much better. I really think- this time it's gonna stick. This time, I don't think I'll let it grow out again. This is finally me.

[simpjaes]

serial-sweetheart (s.jy & p.sh)

Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Sunghoon came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Jake, has a bit of a thing for you? 

MDNI!!

WORDCOUNT― 23.6k

PAIRING― shy jake x afab reader | sunghoon x  afab reader

CONTENT― sunghoon and reader are 24, jake is 21. boyfriend sunghoon, perverted/shy college boy jake, panty stealing, hidden intimacy, needy jake, dom-ish sunghoon in smaller/less detailed smut scenes, reader is definitely a switch depending on who she is looking at, uh, brief mention of heeseung raging at jake through a headset while he gets pleasured lmao

WARNINGS― infidelity that doesn’t get exposed, foot job but only bc i can’t figure out how to write a scene like this if it’s not your foot lmao, there are intimate things happening between reader and jake in like, almost every fuckin scene.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because i wrote it for a different band on my other blog(@/ncteez). this is a revamp of that fic, freshly edited and updated. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― infidelity,  rough sunghoon, jake listens through the walls, tons of masturbation, he also steals panties and gets caught and embarrassed by reader, mentions of double penetration, lil under the table moment with jake, foot job but i swear im not into feet just hear me out ok? It’s brief i swear, sexting and phone sex, reach-around hand job, jake isn’t entirely subby when he finally gets his dick wet, penetration, pet names, sexting, g-spot stimulation, cream pie, unprotected sex, 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The two years you’ve spent so far with Sunghoon can arguably be considered the best of your life. He’s accommodating, listens to all of your problems, touches you in all of the right ways, and he’s even well-liked by your parents. You love your boyfriend enough to spend countless nights at his place just to get away from your own. It’s comfortable there, and feels like home, whereas your own apartment just feels empty without him. 

The relationship felt very adult. He was the first boyfriend to stay with you longer than a couple of months, the first one to have his own house, job, money, and car. The two of you were equal, comfortable, and happily in love. Anyone could trust that both of you were running towards the path of marriage, and you’d agree with them if it weren’t for the fact that your eye is dangerously close to landing on someone else lately.

In your defense, your eyes didn’t linger before Jake, Sunghoon’s younger brother, moved in. You had no interest in anyone aside from Sunghoon but, Jake is really something else. Cute, loud, obnoxious, and even charming at times. Still, you’ve caught him countless times staring for too long at your legs when you wear shorts around the house, lingering in the room when Sunghoon has his lips on yours, and even stuttering through conversations with you after a wild night in the bedroom with his older brother. 

It was cute at first, but as the months went on, you started staring at Jake a little more. You’d note that he gets flustered easily but can’t bring himself to leave any given situation that causes such a reaction. He gets hard sometimes too, you can see it, and occasionally you can hear him take care of it too. 

The first night you heard it, Sunghoon was sound asleep next to you after a long, drawn-out session of putting you in your place (sexually). You were comfortable beside him, listening to his soft snores and finally settling yourself in to close your eyes and sleep too.

It was so silent, the entire house seemed as empty as it always had been outside of you and your boyfriend, except for the fact that Jake was in this house now too. You shot an eye open at the sound of a muffled moan through the wall. You could tell he tried to prevent it, noticing that it appeared to be choked back almost as quickly as he let it fall from his lips.

You laid there, first attempting to sleep but ultimately falling victim to the thoughts of what Jake must have been doing just a wall over. You felt guilty about the images, imagining how cute he must look tugging at himself and whimpering, frustrated at how he can’t make a sound. Jake knows how thin the walls are, you’re sure of it. Even you and Sunghoon have tried to be quieter so Jake doesn’t have to hear it and feel uncomfortable. 

The choked-back sounds he was letting out every few minutes only furthered your thoughts into the danger zone that night. You realized you wanted to watch him. You wanted to help him. And when Jake hit his high, you heard his bed frame hit the wall one time, hard. The image of him lying on his back and fucking against his fist was long gone and replaced with images of what position he could have been in for the bed to hit to wall like that. What was he doing? 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Good morning, sunshine!” You sing out obnoxiously to your boyfriend when he rounds the corner in a sleepy show of how much he doesn’t want to go to work today. He’s already dressed but you can see the darkened bags under his drooping, half-open eyes. 

You don’t often make breakfast for him, not that he minds at all, you just felt guilty about listening in on Jake doing his thing again last night and it’s not something you’re proud of. So yeah, maybe Sunghoon gets breakfast every time his little brother jerks off, what of it? 

“Thanks, babe,” Sunghoon smiles at you weakly, looking at the warm breakfast you place in front of him. “What if I just call in today?” He asks almost immediately after, tearing his eyes from the food and up to you, who had begun to fix a part of his hair that he seemed to have missed. 

“Up to you, I’ve gotta head back to my place soon though.” You look at him, hands on your hips now as you give him another once-over. “You look tired, maybe you should call out.” 

Sunghoon takes a moment to think. What would his excuse be to miss work on a Monday morning after already having two days off? He’s sick? That wouldn’t work, he ran into one of his bosses just the night before picking up some groceries. Car trouble? Also wouldn’t work, he used that excuse last time and he swore he took his car to the shop that very day to make sure it was in tip-top shape. Death in the family? That’s just asking for bad karma. 

“Ugh,” Sunghoon sighs, picking up his fork and picking around the plate. It looks delicious, honestly, but work is the last place he wants to go right now. “How are you so awake? We stayed up so late, are your legs even tired?”

You stop mid-step towards the fridge to grab some juice and turn to look at him. 

“Sunghoon, my legs are killing me, and it’s your fault.” 

He lets out a small laugh, giving himself a gold star for making you cum just as hard as he always did. “Yeah, guess it is my fault, isn’t it?” He prods for more compliments.

“That aside, are you going to call out or?” 

He shakes his head, taking a bite and trying his best to enjoy this last hour of freedom before a nine-hour workday. 

“No, I don’t think I’d have a good excuse today. You’re going home anyway too, I’d just be bored.”

“Umm–” Jake’s voice chimes in as he scuffs into the kitchen with socked feet. He yawns wide and side-eyes you only for a moment before flopping down on the chair next to Sunghoon with his legs spread wide. He looks like such a college boy. Looking equally as tired as your boyfriend and hair far messier, you note his side eye. “Are you saying I’m too boring to hang out with?”

You let out a small chuckle at Jake’s words, and Sunghoon just groans about it. 

“You’re still just as annoying as you’ve always been. I’d rather be wasting away at a desk than sitting here listening to you talk about the exam you’re not studying for.”

“I don’t have exams yet?” Jake protests, looking over Sunghoon's food and swiping a piece from his plate. “The semester hasn’t even started.”

“I’m preparing for what’s to come–” Sunghoon drones on in a defeated voice. 

“Fair,” Jake smiles and looks at you. “So, um, you’re going home today?”

“Yep, gotta go to work too.” You sigh, pointing towards the stove. “Want some food?” 

Jake shuffles to his feet to make himself a plate with a small “thank you”, and you can’t help but notice how disappointed he sounds that you’re going home today. 

“You’re coming over on Wednesday though, right?” Sunghoon asks, sipping the mug of coffee in front of him and finally allowing himself to enjoy the food you’ve graciously made this morning. If he’s gonna have to go to work, the least he can do is feel lucky that he’s not going in on an empty stomach. 

“What’s on Wednesday again?” You smile towards your boyfriend’s now narrowing eyes. 

“You know what Wednesday is.”

“Hm, no, don’t think I do–” Smiling wider at the way his eyes narrow even further.

“What’s Wednesday?” Jake asks, setting down his plate and taking a bite. 

“Yeah, tell him what Wednesday is.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, one that you can tell is a joke. He always plays along with your antics.

“I think it’s like, national fork day or something.”

Sunghoon brings a hand to his forehead with a laugh. “Fork day? That’s all you can come up with?” 

Jake is just confused, clearly. 

“I’m joking. It’s our two-year anniversary.”

You hear a spoon clatter to the table and a small cough. 

“Ugh-” Jake groans, picking the cutlery up off the table and wiping the crumbs clean. “That’s cool.”

Jake can see the way Sunghoon looks at him with his reaction, but it genuinely wasn’t intentional. He just happened to drop his spoon at the wrong time and choke on his food. It wasn’t meant to be as dramatic as it sounded. Also, maybe he’s a little shocked that Sunghoon managed to have a girlfriend for this long with how much of a bore he can be at times. 

Especially someone like you. 

Jake feels shy at the very idea of you, not just because he’s heard what you sound like when his brother touches you, but also because you’re just, like, really pretty and it makes his thoughts go in every direction when you speak to him. 

Even now, just over a small breakfast, he’s disappointed that you have a job too. He’s sad that he can’t spend time in this house with you alone even though he knows well enough that he probably wouldn’t have it in him to approach you. 

Or does he? Knowing that from time to time, like when he first moved in, there had been some days where you stayed over and did your work-from-home stuff. He wasn’t well acquainted with you back then enough to come out and sit with you, and he’s likely not acquainted enough now either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he kind of wants to be around you without his brother taking note of the small crush he kind of maybe developed by being around you.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today is expected to be more exciting than your last anniversary. Mostly because it’s marking a second year with Sunghoon and solidifying the fact that the two of you have made it this far without any glaring issues that could threaten the relationship. At least, no issues that Sunghoon is aware of. 

You think that these thoughts and images of Jake swimming in your head are a phase. In fact, you hope they are. There’s no way you’d ever actually go through with anything involving your boyfriend’s little brother. He’s just kind of cute to see all flustered, even cuter when he tries to hide how he’s feeling regarding you. 

Jake isn’t there when you walk through your boyfriend’s door. Unfortunately, neither is Sunghoon. 

Grabbing your phone and checking the time you’re distracted by the glaring text message from your boyfriend that seemed to have been sent some ten minutes ago as you got in your car for the drive over. A little wave of disappointment hits you as you stand alone in the darkened kitchen. 

Sunghoon: hey i’m gonna be a little late. Boss got a last minute client today, like an hour before closing time so i’m gonna be here at least until 8:30

Sunghoon: is that okay?

The disappointment fades away with how good he is at communicating with you. Your last boyfriend who you only dated for like two months always bailed without notice on dates, ghosting you for a full day or two before explaining himself with one of the same excuses Sunghoon probably uses to get out of work. You know his job is important to him, and you know the anniversary is important to him. His priority doesn’t always have to be you.

You: Yeah that’s fine. What am i supposed to do for three hours though? I’m already at your place (sparkly eye emoji)

Sunghoon is  great at texting you back too.

Sunghoon: you could get yourself ready for me to come home ;) 

You: for 3 hours?

Sunghoon: yes???? or you can just go bug Jake lol

The silence in the house tells you that Jake isn’t home.

You: he’s not here, i figured he went out to give us some privacy?

Sunghoon doesn’t respond for a few minutes, probably because he’s doing something important with his work. By the time you’ve slipped off your shoes and laid against the couch, you get the little ping on your phone..

Sunghoon: Oh, right, he was gonna go meet with some girl he was talking to. I figured he’d chicken out and not go lol, maybe we really will have the house to ourselves tonight ;)

Something inside of you twists at his message. On one hand, you’re happy that you might get the entire house with your beloved boyfriend tonight, on the other hand, you kind of don’t like the thought of Jake losing the ability to get all flustered around you if he’s got someone else doing it for him. 

Are you jealous? No, but you’re a little selfish. You always liked when men chased you even if you knew it would lead nowhere, even if they knew it would lead to nowhere. It was harmless fun, but now all of your fun is gonna be ruined. The last thing you want to be hearing is Jake railing some girl in his room while you’re trying to sleep. 

You: oh yeah? lets hope we don’t have to be quiet tonight then, i have //plans//

Sunghoon: plans? 

You: better get done with work soon so can come home and see <3

With that, you set your phone down and reach for the remote. 

Jake is out with a girl right now? Part of you wonders how he’s navigating it, or if the girl is actually into him. The images in your head are amusing until you realize that you’re not imagining him stumbling over himself with some faceless girl. You’re imagining yourself as the girl he’s out with.

Even on your anniversary, you’re bored and you’ve got some hours to kill anyway. You sort through all sorts of images in your head. From what Jake would do if you were to reject him to what he would do if you didn’t reject him. How he would act if you were leaning in to kiss him, or how he would react if you kissed his neck, started touching his stomach, trailing your hands down– straight until you’re assuming that Jake must be getting a hand job somewhere right now. A little disappointed that it’s not you, you laugh at yourself. 

Silly thoughts like these are normal and you’re sure Sunghoon has them too. Despite the fact that you’d be weirded out if it were about your little sister if you had one. You’re not hurting anyone passing the time and thinking about how things would go with Jake. Surely not. It’s just a fantasy and nothing more. 

It will never be anything more.

Besides, Sunghoon was never shy toward you. Always shooting his shot in charming and convincing ways that have managed to lead to a two-year relationship that’s still going strong. He didn’t leave as much to the imagination at the beginning of your relationship, nor does he now. You can’t even imagine Sunghoon being insecure or lacking confidence in anything he does, but then there’s Jake. The little brother appears to live in the shadow of Sunghoon. From Jake attending college for the same thing to wanting the same woman that Sunghoon is in love with.

Are you too full of yourself for chuckling about that? Laughing at the fact that he’s so entirely different from your boyfriend but that’s the exact reason you find yourself fantasizing about the ‘what if’s’ with him? 

Now the thought of what Jake would do if he knew you were thinking about him this way infiltrates your mind. Would he panic? Surely. Would he blush? Oh yeah, for sure. Would he try to play it off as a joke until realizing you’re serious, visibly shivering as you watch him imagine? Oh– would he tell Sunghoon? Would he get cocky? So many thoughts that are both scary, cute, and…hot. 

You look at the clock on your phone again and realize how slowly the time is passing. Jake’s out getting tugged at by some girl, Sunghoon is at work being an obedient employee, and what are you doing? Sitting on the couch in a daze.

Glancing around a bit, you shake your head at a specific thought. 

Jake’s room.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Against your better judgment and several hours on hand to spend, you find yourself in Jake’s room. Because of course you do. 

 You don’t know why your legs carry you here, but then again you kind of do. Curiosity. You don’t really plan on snooping or anything, you just kind of want to see how he lives when he’s by himself. You want to see if he made his bed or folded his clothes. When you note that the loser definitely does not do either of those things, a flash of pastel blue is catching your attention.

In the mess of Jake’s room, monochrome colors of black and gray come through the most. From sweatpants to band t-shirts, you weren’t expecting to see a glimmer of pastel silk peeking from under one of his pillows. 

It wouldn’t have caught your attention if it wasn’t for the fact that you recognize the color and even remember the day you purchased them. Those are your panties stuffed under Jake’s pillow. 

You find yourself smirking in an evil kind of way as you make your way toward the dainty fabric and pull it from the pillow. You can confirm it now, they’re yours, and you remember wearing them just the past weekend you were over. It was normal for you to leave some of your laundry at Sunghoon’s place after staying the weekend, it’s not like you aren’t here multiple times a week or anything. 

Jake must have taken them from the laundry basket in the bathroom. The thought of him that morning when you made breakfast, acting as casual and normal as ever. The harsher thought of how you listened to him again after Sunghoon had fallen asleep the night before, furiously reaching his climax. 

You spread the fabric against your fingers and laugh at the stain on them. This must have been what he was using that night, thinking of you, surely, right? God, Sunghoon would kill him if he found out.

And just as you go to look around to see if he’s stolen more of your intimate wares, you hear the front door open and you panic, shoving the panties into your back pocket and rushing out of his room to the bathroom just across the hallway.

In your slight panic, you manage to stand by the bathroom door and listen to the footsteps coming down the hallway. It’s definitely Jake because Sunghoon would have called you to let you know he was coming home. 

Checking the clock again, it’s barely six and you’ve now got two or so hours pretending that you didn’t just find your panties in Jake’s room. Or, maybe, you don’t have to pretend. Maybe you can just fluster and embarrass him more now. 

You reach over and flush the toilet and then step to the sink to actually wash your hands because you definitely were just handling cum-stained panties, and then you step out of the bathroom acting surprised that he’s here.

“Oh!” You exclaim, stepping out of the bathroom and looking directly at Jake through his bedroom door as he’s in the middle of throwing himself against the bed in frustration. “Didn’t think you’d be here today?”

Jake nearly jumps out of his skin despite knowing someone was in the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting to be addressed by you or Sunghoon today.

“Yeah, me either.” He groans, throwing his hand over his face. “You scared the fuck outta me–”

“Ah, you seem frustrated. Why?” You ask, taking a step forward and leaning against the doorframe to his room, crossing your arms. “Sunghoon said you were on a date or something?”

Jake groans again, lifting his back from the mattress to sit up and starts shaking his head in defeat. The fact that you’re talking to him right now only makes him feel worse. He’s embarrassed enough by the happenings of the past hour or so, now he has to sit here and answer your questions about it?

“Yeah, I was supposed to be but she ended up just using me as a ploy.” 

You only chuckle because of course that’s the type of shit that’ll happen to him, but also like, you’re kind of glad the date wasn’t a date, even if he didn’t know it.

“A ploy?”

“Turns out, she was just trying to make some guy jealous. He literally served us our drinks. ”

“Oh yeah? Then what happened?” You question, prying now. 

“When he was coming up to the table, she told me to kiss her so I did. Then as soon as he walked away, she was back on her phone and texting. She accidentally texted me I guess, saying that ‘the plan is working, he’s definitely jealous’.” Jake mocks the text message in a whiny voice.

You laugh a little louder this time, eyes darting to the pillow he had your panties tucked under.

“Why are you laughing? I’m miserable.” Jake is casual when he talks about it, but you note that he lets out a small chuckle too. “Why would someone even use me to make a guy jealous?”

You freeze for a second. Here’s your first opening.

“Because you’re cute?”

Jake freezes now too, glancing away from you with what you think is that shyness you’d seen so much before. It’s definitely shyness, if his quick-flushed cheeks are anything to go by.

 For Jake, out of everything that’s just happened to him, at least you think he’s cute, but it’s not like he can have you or actually use your compliment as an ego boost considering you’re dating his big brother.

“Anyway,” You offer an out, noting his avoidance a little more now that you know what he’s been doing in his free time with your personal items. “Sunghoon will be home later for our anniversary, sorry for what you’re gonna hear later–” 

Second opening.

“I know it’s weird to ask but I left a cute pair of panties last time I was here. They’re his favorite. I can’t find them.”

Jake stands to his feet quickly and casually throws his jacket over the pillow you had pulled them from earlier. Upon the very mention of your panties, he feels caught, like he’s got three shining spotlights directed at him to warn you of the panty thief. 

“I don’t know, what color were they?” He awkwardly asks, trying to avoid looking at you, not even questioning that you’re asking him when you’ve never so much as asked what he does in his free time. He can’t even tell that he’s telling on himself right now. 

“Light blue, silk.” You deadpan, looking at him.

“Oh, I might have seen them in the laundry. I’ll go look.”

Before you can even protest, Jake is shuffling past you and rushing towards the laundry room. You follow behind him casually, not in the slightest bit of a hurry with a cheeky smile hidden from his view.

“I already checked in here. The dirty laundry too.”

“Did you check Sunghoon’s drawers? He did laundry yesterday, they’re probably in there.” 

Jake is talking so fast that it’s almost sad. If you could pinch his flushed cheeks right now, you would.

“Smart boy.” You compliment with a finger in the air, walking towards Sunghoon’s room just to see what Jake will do next when you tell him they’re not there. 

You lazily look through all of your panties stuffed into Sunghoon’s drawers and head back out to Jake’s room after a few moments. Quietly, you peek around the door and only laugh at him when you see that his pillow is overturned and he’s digging through a clothes pile in the corner of his room. The fact that he didn’t even close his door is hilarious, but you imagine it was an afterthought considering time is against him.

“Did you find them?” You ask, watching him nervously stop searching and stay in place on the floor facing away from you. You can practically tell the cold sweat that hit him.

“N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?” 

“Yep.” You say, pulling the panties out of your pocket.

Jake relaxes, choosing to believe that somehow, the panties he had tucked under his pillow managed to walk themselves to the laundry room, step into the washer, then the dryer, and then place themselves neatly into Sunghoon’s drawer. Never will he let himself think that you found them, or even worse, Sunghoon found them.

When his shoulders relax and he turns to look at you, you see him stiffen up just as much as before when you swing the panties around your finger, stopping to present them in a way that shows the massive cum stain. 

“Guess Sunghoon needs to find a new favorite, huh?” You joke, tossing them onto Jake’s bed and walking away. 

As you walk down the hallway with a smile on your face, you can hear Jake’s frantic footsteps rush up behind you. 

“Wait! It’s not–” He tries to explain the situation away. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“My panties under your pillow aren't what it looks like?” You turn to face him at the end of the hallway, and with the way he was quickly following you, he runs directly into you and has to stumble back from the close proximity of you in front of him. He’s never even touched you before. Never hugged you, prodded you, or even looked at you for too long when your eyes were already on him. 

“No–” He goes to say with a deep swallow of nervousness, but you interrupt him. 

“Jake, you’re lucky it was me who found them and not your brother.” 

“I know,” Jake stutters out, looking to the floor. “But really, I didn’t mean to-”

“If you didn’t mean for me to find them, you should have stuffed them further back. They were hanging out for anyone to see, Jake.”

He stops for a moment. You’re telling him how he should have hidden them?

“Wait–” 

Only now does Jake realize your comment of Sunghoon needing to find a new favorite pair of underwear before you tossed them back on his bed. He’s gotta be thinking too positively to imagine you’re giving him the panties and offering tips on how to keep them from Sunghoon, right? Like you only gave them back because you’re disgusted by him, right? 

“Really, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I took them.”

An admittance. You feel like you’ve won the game and you’re definitely in the position to ask more questions. 

“You don’t? Try and think of a reason then.” You ask, taking a step towards him.

You can see how that single step forward overwhelms him, so much so that he takes a step back, feeling frozen when his eyes glance up at yours. He can’t pull his eyes away this time with the way you’re looking at him. 

There’s a smirk against your lips and he can’t sense a single bit of anger. Cautiously, he tries to avoid your question. 

“I don’t know why.” He repeats, staring down at you as you look at him and take another step forward. 

“I think we both know why you stole them.” You smile wider, lifting slightly to where you’re just inches from his face. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” He sighs out, somewhat lost in your gaze as if he has managed to become hypnotized by the way you’re speaking with him. Then he shakes himself out of it, taking a step back with a muttered out string of “I mean, no!” 

You close in against him just as you did before, not allowing him to escape the hold you have on him. You’re just as close as you were before he stepped back, and you continue. 

“You did? Do you listen in on what Sunghoon does to me too?”

Jake takes another step back, this time knowing full well that you’ll just follow him again. And you do, practically walking him back through the hallway and against the wall after passing his room. 

“I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.” 

You smile as he tries to back himself up further against the wall. 

“Why not all the time?” You follow up, watching the way his lip quivers a bit from the nervousness within him. 

Unbearably cute is what Jake is at this moment, trapped and caught. 

“You guys get too quiet, I guess?” He answers as if it’s his own question, wondering if it’s what you want to hear. His belly is doing flips though, admitting these things to you and feeling as if you’ll make fun of him, mock him, tell on him. It’s a horrifying thought. 

“You’re too quiet sometimes too.” You smile before backing away and turning to walk back toward the end of the hallway. 

Jake hangs his head wondering what the fuck just happened and if you were actually implying certain things toward him. He can barely bring himself to care that you hear him masturbate. He tries to be quiet, honestly, he does. But it’s hard sometimes when he’s rubbing his cock against the silk of the panties you just gave back to him, even harder when he’s hearing you through the walls and he imagines if you’d make the same sounds for him. 

Pulled from his thoughts, he hears you turn the volume up on the tv before shouting at him.

“Jake?” You say, waiting for him to respond quietly from out of view.

“Yeah?” He responds as he makes his way back to his room. 

“I’ll be loud tonight.” 

Jake closes his bedroom door feeling like his body is on fire and like his mind is spiraling into a place where it shouldn’t be. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When Sunghoon got home, Jake made it his mission to not step foot out of his bedroom until the two of you were passed out. Thankfully, he had taken a quick bathroom break while also trying to avoid letting you hear that he left his room right before Sunghoon came back.

Jake almost feels like prey right now, additionally, he’s confused about the entire situation with you. 

He tried to be a good person and not fantasize about his brother’s girlfriend by making a profile on a dating app, but even now as he scrolls through all of the pretty faces, he knows that none of them would just let him steal their panties like you did. Not that it’s a hobby of his or anything, he saw your panties and he took the chance to give him a better orgasm next time around. Now he’s kind of obsessed with the idea though.

He had already placed the panties back under his pillow and stuffed them further back by now, and hearing you and Sunghoon in the living room doing couple-things doesn’t really help the confusion in his head. If you’re in there all lovey-dovey with his brother, why did you get up so close to him earlier? Why did you offer to be loud for him? Why did you do any of what you did?

It feels wrong that everything just makes him want you more. Before, he was just being a horny guy, but now he’s like, maybe only horny for you.

Maybe it’s just a phase, surely it’ll pass. He loves his brother. 

Then he finds himself questioning if that’s the truth as the night goes on. 

Jealousy is a hateful demon. When he hears the shuffling into Sunghoon’s room and the giggles coming from both of you, Jake almost wants to hit someone. Why can’t he have that? Why does Sunghoon always get to experience all the good things in life?

Not only was Jake used by some pretty girl today, he is now being shown yet again what he can’t have and will probably never have. The jealousy is only worse, as he faceplants into his pillow and considers moving back in with his parents so that way he can stop wanting what his brother has. 

The consideration is furthered when he grows frustrated at the sounds of you through the wall. He can even hear Sunghoon shush you a few times. 

Unfortunately, against Jake’s will, his cock starts to grow against the mattress and his thigh, fingers now tucking further under the pillow to find those silk panties that caused his ultimate demise today. It’s instinctual at this point, despite how shameful he feels. He seriously just can’t resist touching himself when he hears you, even through the frustration and annoyance. 

When he runs his fingers along the fabric, still tucked beneath the pillow, he whines to himself at how pathetic it is for him to keep doing this. Only when he realizes that you’re over there being fucked and being loud specifically for him to hear does he pull them out and roll over onto his back.

All confusion and worry is left behind now as he replaces those anxieties with the idea of you grinding against him while wearing these panties. He thinks about how you like it, how you move your body, what you’d do with your hands. 

His cock twitches to be free just a few moments later and he doesn’t think twice about lowering his sweatpants and staring down at himself. He sighs in defeat at the image, noting how much harder he is now compared to the nights before when he weakly worked himself up to the faint sounds of you

From across the wall, you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Jake kind of falls into the back of your guilty mind as your boyfriend loves on you. Sunghoon came home excited, a hand was on you the entire time from the moment he walked through the door until now. Both hands are on you now as he praises you and pries your legs open.

 Usually, Sunghoon is rougher. He’d do things that drive you insane, edge you, and deny you pleasure over and over again until he felt it was time to let you let go. The added attempts to be silent only made it more fun for your boyfriend, gagging you with his cock, fingers, or even your own panties. Tonight though, tonight is a little different considering it is the two-year anniversary of his relationship with you.

The plan you had for Sunghoon tonight was for him to use a new toy on you that you’d bought in secret. He always wanted to try double penetration with you but is never willing to share you, and you don’t mind that at all. Still, you wanted to fulfill one of his fantasies, and that’s what the intention is. 

To your surprise though, Sunghoon leaves the toy still in its package on the table and has been eating you out for a solid twenty minutes already.

He’s focusing on you entirely at this moment and it’s got your head spinning with the way his wet tongue flicks your clit while his lips envelop the entire bud. He’s so good at it, and usually only does this when you’ve been extra good for him, like if you willingly choke on his entire length or you let him overstimulate you to the point that getting head from him is painful. 

His head is between your legs lapping away and all you can do is groan out for him, enjoying the way he’s being gentle and pointed with his tongue. His hands go from your legs to keep them from crushing his head to reaching up to massage your tits. He doesn’t even try to silence you, and you’re thankful to keep your promise to Jake despite not actually trying to right now. 

And when Sunghoon pulls his head back for a breath, he looks up at you and whispers a small “happy anniversary, baby–” before smiling in such a genuine way that it has your heart crashing with the amount of love you have for him. 

He dips back in after the loving words, hugging both of your thighs with his arms and burying his face into you for another ten minutes before, well, he grows a bit bored. He wants to make you cum this way and make it last as long as possible, but now he’s feeling neglected and the image of you with that toy you got is burning images in his mind the more he hears you moan for him. 

“Changed my mind,” Sunghoon mutters as he pulls back for a breath and leaves your clit entirely abandoned.

 He hears you whimper at the loss of pressure and honestly, he’s always loved the way you sound when you do it. He finds himself reaching for the toy much quicker than he originally planned, soothing you through your disappointment with a fond voice.

“Play with yourself while I get this ready.” He smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead before fumbling with the box. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The fact that Jake can hear his brother tell you to play with yourself makes him feel insane. Only because of the way you start moaning again and give him even more to think about while over here all alone. 

Fuck, the thought of walking in on you one day with your fingers inside of yourself, not quite reaching where you want them to, asking him to take over for you? 

Jake almost wants to put his ear to the wall. 

Wait, why shouldn’t he? He wants to hear you.

Cock still in hand and tangled against your panties, he shuffles to his feet and presses his ear against the wall. You sound much more clear now when he chokes back his own moan, knowing you’d probably hear it more clearly too considering how loud he is.

Knowing you can hear him though? That means Sunghoon can also hear him, so he tries his best to hold it back as he starts thrusting himself against the silk in his hand.

He does well until he hears a choked-out whimper, a slap, and some crude words coming from his brother’s lips. On any other day of listening in, his cock would instantly go soft hearing his brother but what he says to you through these thin as fuck walls has him biting his lip in an attempt to silence his own moan.

“You like being stuffed with two?” Jake hears at first, followed by another whimper from you. “So wet, it slid right in beside me–”

Jake can’t even imagine what’s being done to you right now but he can tell you’re loving it in the way your whimpers turn to full-fledged moans that he’s never heard before. 

“Oh, fuck–” Jake groans out towards himself, looking down at his painfully hard cock against your panties. Dripping, absolutely an utter fucking mess in his own palm over you. 

He starts to move his hand this time, faster than what his hips were doing. Only part of him is trying to match the sounds of skin slapping skin, moving his hand much faster than what he’s hearing happen to you. 

He’s sure you’d moan like that for him too. Wouldn’t even need two to make you be so loud, surely. 

And then he’s starting to shake, rolling his head a bit to where his forehead is against the wall. He’s shamelessly out of breath when he whispers his own words to you as his cock begins to fucking weep his cum against your panties. Words of, ‘yeah, you like that?’ and “Better than him, right?” 

And when Jake backs away from the wall, allowing the muffled sound of your loud moaning to be further and further from his ear, he collapses on his bed in a deep breath and then trails his eyes back over towards the wall. 

You’re right there. 

You know exactly what he’s doing in here but now he can’t tell if you’re actually being loud because you told him you would, or if it’s because Sunghoon really is that good. 

The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s been days since your anniversary and now that work is finished, you get to head back over for your regular weekend with Sunghoon. Except now you wonder how awkward it’s going to be. The soreness between your legs has gotten better but the guilt of how Jake avoided you the next morning got worse. 

You think you should leave it be, you should just let him have those panties and pretend it never happened, pretend you never flirted with him, and pretend you didn’t tell him that you listen to him get off too.

You went too far on your fucking anniversary then proceeded to fall even more in love with Sunghoon.

Thankfully, you didn’t go far enough to where it couldn’t be salvaged, so when you leave today, you have the promise in your head that you will leave it alone. You will leave Jake alone and go back to what you were with Sunghoon before you ever fantasized about his little brother.

Except that doesn’t happen because the moment you walk in and see Jake lounging by himself on the couch, shirtless, you find yourself avoiding him more than he’s avoiding you.

Though he immediately got up when you walked through the door with a small apology and rushed towards his room, you had to stop yourself from turning around and going straight back home. Sunghoon is here though, back turned towards you as he stirs something in a bowl. 

“Hey babe, can you come help me?” Your boyfriend calls out, glancing at you from over his shoulder and showing the smallest glimpse of something smeared against his cheek. 

Your heart warms at how domestic he looks right now, kicking your shoes off and heading towards him with your weekend bag. 

“I'll be back in a minute, let me put my bag in your room.” You say, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his shoulder.

He lends you a short nod in response, turning his attention back to his mixing bowl with a smile plastered across his face. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss you, honestly. 

And as you make your way down the hallway to Sunghoon’s room, you note how Jake’s door is closed. You’re thankful for that, as the image of his stupidly attractive shirtless body still appears to be fucking burned into your brain.

 It’s stupid, honestly, you have a whole Sunghoon in the kitchen waiting for you, who will probably make you cum a minimum of three times tonight, and you’re panic-walking past his little brother’s bedroom because you’re incredibly fucking attracted to him. 

Ridiculous.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The self-control you once had is no longer present in your head. The plan to leave it be is less and less attractive in your brain the more you take in the image of Jake in front of you at the table texting away on his phone. 

You watch him shamelessly as Sunghoon goes back and forth in the kitchen. You’re almost completely skewed from his view, thanks to the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, as you sit here across from Jake. He’s wearing a shirt now, rude, and is only glancing at you from time to time.

He’s not saying a damn thing to you though, which is annoying.

What happened to you avoiding him? No, what happened to him avoiding you? 

From under the table, you gently kick against his leg to get his attention and his eyes snap up toward you. You look down instantly, pretending as if you weren’t kicking him to get his attention at all. All so you’re the one ignoring him instead. 

But your leg stays there, occasionally kicking against him just to see how long it takes for him to stop reacting to it. 

Scrolling through your own phone now, you’re swiping through videos, listening to Sunghoon clattering through the cupboards, and feeling incredibly warm sitting in front of Jake. You don’t know what’s gotten into you when it comes to him, honestly.

Finally, you slowly trail your eyes back up to his face and note that he does the same, at the exact same time. 

The two of you share a moment of silence looking at each other. You can almost feel his eyes pull you in without intent. It feels dangerous just to look at him, seeing him in a newer light than what you’d seen in him when it was just amusement on your end. You wonder if he can tell. Probably not.

He doesn’t look away from you, and you’re not sure why. He just stays still and silent, blinking back at you. 

Maybe he’s being pulled in too, like a silent agreement communicated just through eye contact. The electricity in the space between the two of you is nothing short of dangerous. Your body almost acts on its own when you raise your lips into a half smile at him and plant your foot on the chair between his legs.

Still keeping eye contact, you watch him jump at the action but he doesn’t move or push your foot away. Instead, he’s breaking eye contact and looking down, staring down, really, at how your socked foot is planted directly between his legs.

He doesn’t move, trailing his eyes back to you now with a curious look. You continue, pressing your foot forward just slightly. Jake jumps again at the feeling and shoots his eyes to the opening of the kitchen.

 Sunghoon is still facing away, stirring something in a pot on the stove. Thank fuck.

 He’s not strong enough to push your foot away. In fact, he can hardly comprehend the situation at all, or why he presses his hips forward out of need rather than want. He knows it’s wrong to have you touching him in any way whether it’s your foot or not, this is not okay to be doing. But god, he yearns for you so badly. He’ll take anything, everything he can get. 

You smile wider, watching the way his face tries to stay casual as he gently scoots forward and presses himself further against your foot. Only now, satisfied, do you look back down to your phone as if you didn’t just do that, and like you’re not keeping your foot in place for Jake to grind against. 

The fact that he’s actually doing this at all is enough for you to feel warm on the inside. All you were going to do was experimentally cross a line to see what would happen. This is a much better outcome compared to him rushing out of the room in a panic. 

It doesn’t take long before you start giving more pressure against his weak grinds. Each time you glance up just to get a look at his poker-face, you can tell he’s looking at you in disbelief and shifting his eyes to keep checking for Sunghoon. 

You can tell he grinds harder when Sunghoon isn’t at risk of seeing, and he moves more weakly when his alarm bells are ringing. If anything, the fact that Jake is falling apart in front of you and trying to pretend he isn’t is enough to have you pressing forward more.

You smirk as you scroll to watch another video, feeling his cock twitch against your foot, and god, he’s really that desperate? You hate how much you like it and hate even more that you’re so fucking attracted to him doing this right now. 

When you glance up again, this time because you really can’t help yourself at this point, you note that Jake is really trying to concentrate on looking normal despite his body obviously shifting back and forth under the table. 

He’s insanely obvious, and already it makes even you panic at the fact that he’s really losing his ability to remain calm. 

“Jake, have you seen this meme?” You fake laugh out loud, mostly to stop him from getting too into it and blowing the cover. 

He jerks his hips back with an annoyed groan, realizes where he is and what’s between his legs, and then jumps back into an act.

“No, I don’t think so–” He says nervously, leaning forward to see your phone. 

You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer over the table, lifting him from his seat and whispering as quickly as you can.

“You need to stop being obvious–” You warn before releasing him and turning your phone to show him the video.

Jake lets out a fake laugh at the video, shifting his eyes to you apologetically before seating himself back down and looking dead into your eyes. 

There, he feels you adjust your foot again, this time further into his chair where you can blatantly feel how desperately hard he’s gotten over this. 

Jake can’t just sit here and let this continue for too long, despite really, really fucking needing the touch. And it sucks, considering it’s the first time you’ve actually come onto him and it just has to be with Sunghoon barely even a room over? 

God, fuck. Fuck! 

Right here, right now, Jake decides he’s going to take what he can get, even if it makes you feel sorry for him. 

You’re shocked when you feel his hand grab your foot and hold it in place before very harshly  grinding against it. Watching him from across the table, he makes it very obvious as to what he’s doing but still, you find yourself falling apart at the way he parts his lips, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to hold back a moan. 

Then, just as quickly as he started, you feel him push your foot away and he’s scooting back in his chair. 

“I left something in my room. I’ll be back.” Jake says sheepishly, looking to the floor and rushing into the hallway.

You watch him rush out of the room confused, so you look behind you hoping Sunghoon didn’t like, make eye contact with him or something. It doesn’t appear he did though, because you see him waist-deep bent over in the fridge looking for something. 

Jake needed to like, not come in his pants from that. Not in front of you. Not in front of his own fucking brother.

  He doesn’t even fucking like feet! But, well, he likes you. 

You offered pressure and he fucking took it. He needed to finish himself off and not have to sit there in cum-soiled pants pretending like it didn’t just happen. So, naturally, he ran to his room to finish himself off out of frustration. Thankfully he’s close enough to reach climax within two to three strokes, right there leaning against his door. 

Embarrassed by the small sob he let out during his orgasm, he’s quick to rush to the bathroom and clean up before grabbing a hoodie from his room and throwing it on over the t-shirt, mostly so it does look like he actually came in here to grab something.

Not even five minutes pass before he’s sitting in front of you again. Jake feels helpless in the way he can no longer bring himself to avoid looking at you, all the way up until Sunghoon peeks into the room and announces that he thinks he’s perfected the soup recipe, and is ready for you guys to come try it. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t look at Jake after he came back. Not much, anyway. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s mostly just that you’re coming to terms with the fact that you just crossed a line and you’re not sorry about it. Even after Sunghoon places a spoon at your lips and the soup is definitely the most delicious he’s ever made. 

 Even after he’s got his arm around you at the table with that same loving smile plastered on his lips, sitting across from his little brother who just eye fucked you while grinding against your foot, you struggle to decide who you’d rather look at. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The events of yesterday stay fresh on your mind as Sunghoon lays next to you half-awake and scratching against his arm before cuddling in closer to you. He’s so warm and all you can do is wonder why you're risking this comfort to have fun with his little brother.

 You’ve already crossed a line and gone too far. You did exactly what you said you weren’t going to do and exactly what you never thought you could do. You’re probably not going to be able to stop even if you wanted to, so you opt to just–not think about when it’s gonna happen again or if it’s gonna happen again. 

Saturday almost flies by and before you know it, all three of you are lounging in the living room to watch a movie. Usually, Jake isn’t as present when you’re with Sunghoon but since everything started, he makes himself known much more. 

He includes himself in things and engages in more conversation. You wonder if it’s because he’s waiting for you to do something again. The worst part about all of it is that you can tell Sunghoon is enjoying the time he’s spending with you and Jake together. 

Even during this movie, Sunghoon doesn’t think twice when you lean against him and throw your legs over Jake’s lap to get comfortable. Alternatively, Jake thinks three to four times over when you do it, opting to keep his hands at his sides when he steals a glance at you and notes that you’re comfortable under his brother’s arm. 

The movie goes on like that and Jake can’t help but feel like it’s taking forever to be over with. Then again, he’s staring at your legs on his lap more than the movie on the screen. It gets worse when there's a jumpscare and your legs are tensing up and moving around against him. 

At least this time it’s not your fucking foot and he’s got a calf muscle to work with. 

You did it both intentionally and unintentionally. You weren’t exactly throwing your legs on him to get him to rub against them or anything, it was mostly just to fluster him, but Jake proves himself as someone with zero self-control once again.

 You feel him twitch under your legs and shamefully, you immediately feel arousal drip between your legs. The fact that he gets you so riled up so fast will always be a mystery to you, honestly. 

The good news? Being turned on isn’t so bad right now, considering you have Sunghoon right here to help you take care of it without much convincing.

Adjusting yourself, you pull your legs from Jake and take a second to focus on his lap. The tent in his pants is obvious, but Sunghoon pays no mind as his eyes stay on the screen. You watch the way Jake covers himself quickly and looks at you in confusion. 

As he looks at you, you move a bit to look at Sunghoon.

Without warning, your boyfriend is thrown off guard by you suddenly kissing his neck. If Jake doesn’t have self-control, neither do you. 

And in your defense, you’re not trying to dangle your relationship in front of him, really, you’re not. It’s not your fault that Jake got hard and that caused a chain reaction in getting you wet. 

Sunghoon pulls back to look at you. His face is somewhat concerned but still, he’s smiling as he makes attempts to dodge your kisses. 

“Hey, hey slow down–” He turns his face to whisper into your hair. “It’s weird with Jake here.”

You ignore his whispers and continue to kiss against him, moving your hand dangerously close to his upper thigh. 

In a way, Sunghoon can’t believe that you’re really acting like this in front of Jake. Sure, the two of you have kissed in front of him, and Jake has walked in on some steamy makeout sessions, but it was never intended to be in front of him. Then again, Sunghoon knows how needy you can get and how selfish you can be when you’re wanting something specific from him. 

“Okay, okay–” Sunghoon relents in another whisper, gently pulling himself from the couch and grabbing your hand. 

“Hey, I think she’s getting tired.” Sunghoon laughs with the obvious lie to his brother. “Can we finish the movie another time?” 

“Uh, sure.” Jake responds, knowing full fucking well that you’re turned on because of him and now you’re gonna go fuck his brother to take care of it. 

This is so annoying.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Come Sunday morning, you were just as turned on as you were the night before. You can feel your body heating the moment you even think of Jake, but Sunghoon satiates you well enough. Even there against the bathroom wall as the two of you take a shower. 

Sunghoon took note the night before that you enjoyed it when he humiliated you for doing those things in front of Jake. Asking you if you were really so desperate that you’d let just anyone see you acting the way you did. He plays off of that today too. 

Waking up hard wasn’t anything weird for Sunghoon, and usually the morning showers end up as morning sex sessions anyway. You seemed more willing and awake this morning than any other time, and he’s thankful for it. 

When he’s got you pressed against the wall as the warm water runs down your back, he doesn’t hesitate to plunge into you all the way with a comment of how much wetter you get when he degrades you. In a way, the punishment and degradation feels deserved, because you are embarrassed by how much you want to touch Jake.

“Getting off on the thought of other people seeing how wet you get for me?” 

You nod against the cold bathroom tiles, feeling his cock pressing deeply inside of you and making your legs feel weak. You do love when other people can see, but what you mean by that is you love when his little brother can see. 

Jake, from across the hall, once again hears it all because it wakes him up. Sunghoon hasn’t even attempted to keep his voice down while talking to you. Why? Because even he is far too turned on to pay attention to anything outside of this bathroom right now. 

“Going so far as letting Jake see? How desperate were you?” 

Jake’s ears perk up at the sound of his brother saying that, already stirring in his pants at the very idea of you getting off to that. 

How desperate were you?

 He wonders how you answer, or if you do. He wonders if you were desperate for him or if it was really for Sunghoon.

Without much more thought, Jake can’t go another day with you here right now. It’s becoming a bit too much, a bit too real, and honestly, he thinks he’s the desperate one right now. Wanting to barge into the bathroom, shove his brother away, and have his way with you. He could never. You’d never let him go that far surely. 

And by the time it’s all said and done, you leave the bathroom lightheaded and Jake appears to have left the house to do something else.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The week passes normally up until Thursday night. You’re rummaging through your cabinets for something to make for dinner when your phone goes off. Assuming it’s Sunghoon again, complaining that Friday never comes fast enough, you’re shocked to see that it’s Jake sending you something through instagram. 

And he’s drunk. 

SimJake_ sent a photo: 

SimJake_: guess who got drunk on a thursday night and is regretting the fact that i wanna talk to you? 

Never did you want a paper trail or some type of proof that you and Jake are involved in this weird….thing together. His message isn’t even sexual, it's just a bit intimate that your boyfriend’s brother is sending you selfies while drunk even though you came onto him first. 

He’s attractive, and entirely too cute right now trying to approach you via fucking Instagram because he won’t do it to your face. Then again, Sunghoon is always around, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t done anything about it. 

You: let me guess, you’re the one drunk on a thursday night and will probably say some shit that will make you not be able to look me in the eye tomorrow?

SimJake_ : ding ding ding! what’re you doing? 

You: texting you and trying to find food, im hungry. what about you?

SimJake_ : bout to make another drink and pretend i don’t have your panties under my pillow

SimJake_ : because i do

Wow, Jake is embarrassing and confident when he’s drunk. You find yourself smiling over it. You’d never guess or even assume he would try to make conversation with you about that of all things.

You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

SimJake_ : am i being too weird? 

SimJake_: because you’re the one who started it

You: me? I started it? last time i checked, you’re the one who stole my panties?? you pervert????

SimJake_ : you’re the one who let me keep them

You: that’s……fair

SimJake_: so… 

Shy boy is no more at this moment and you almost feel caught off guard. Reminding yourself that he’s drunk, you try to set a boundary in your head and change the subject.

You: what are you drinking?

SimJake_ : found some of my brother’s expensive whiskey, gonna tell him you drank it, he wont be mad then

You: you’re gonna tell him that I drank his whiskey, when he knows I don’t even like whiskey?

SimJake_ : yep

You laugh at the audacity, finally finding a snack for yourself and settling on the couch with your phone in hand. 

You: and you’re drinking on a weeknight again, why?

SimJake_ : because i want you 

Oh.

SimJake_ : and i know im not allowed to, but it’s really hard to like, not, i guess

SimJake_ : i know im being weird and im sorry, just really drunk rn and wanna talk to you thats all

SimJake_ : or we can pretend i never messaged you and you can delete the messages

You: no, i think you’re being cute. You can calm down, it’s okay

It’s definitely not okay, but you want it to be. You’re about to do some not okay things too, and cross those boundaries you literally just now set.

You: so, they’re still under your pillow? 

SimJake_: yea

You: when was the last time you didn’t have them under there?

SimJake_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah? 

SimJake_: yea i washed them when Sunghoon was at work…um

SimJake_: can you maybe wear them again

God, he really is that desperate. 

SimJake_ : please? you can leave them in the laundry like last time and ill just grab them

You: i’ll think about it 

SimJake_ : okay…so…

SimJake_: um….did you like the selfie 

You: i like seeing you in person more, it’s fun when you’re all flustered and stuff, trying to pretend you don’t like it

Jake is giggling to himself like a schoolgirl, focusing on your messages and hoping to god he doesn’t forget the things you’re saying to him. He’s going to have to delete these messages as soon as it’s over though, for sure. At least he’s not drunk enough to forget the glaring issue at hand here.

SimJake_: i don’t like it because i always have a boner now lol i feel gross always having to go to my room and take care of it so things dont get weird

You: maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?

SimJake_ : wait what

You’re cheating. As if you haven’t been already. This is blatantly against your moral code and you literally do not care. 

You: are you all flustered now?

SimJake_ : maybe,,,,

You: would you want me to? instead of you having to always run off to your room where I can’t see? 

SimJake_ : you’re doing this on purpose, you wouldn’t actually wanna

SimJake_ : would you?

You: guess you’ll just have to find out eventually

You: flustered now?

SimJake_ : yea, wanna see?

SimJake_ sent a photo: 

You:  jesus christ, you’re…

You: big…. I mean, I knew from feeling it last weekend but like, that was my foot lol

SimJake_ : yeah what even was that about? i felt so stupid doing that

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

SimJake_ : am i really that big? 

You: Jake,look at that thing. im shocked you don’t already have a girl to bury it into yet. 

SimJake_: could have one ;) 

You: ….yeah

SimJake_: yeah? 

SimJake_  sent a photo: 

Okay, it’s getting to be too much now. You can feel the warmth pooling into your panties already and you wonder if he would be just as eager to lick it up as he is to text you right now. You spread your legs wide, deciding on if you should do it. You’re already cheating, the guilt couldn’t get any worse anyway. 

You sent a photo: 

SimJake_ : oh fuck 

SimJake_: you’re wet?

SimJake_: sorry i wasnt expecting that

SimJake_: can i save it

You:  no 

You sent a photo: 

SimJake_: you should give me those panties instead

You: okay, ill put them in the basket tomorrow night 

SimJake_: will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

SimJake_ : yeah :( 

You: ill think about it

Jake is blushing, flushing, and shaking all at once, one hand on his cock and the other texting you. He’s saved the photos anyway, boring holes into them with the thought of what must be behind that thin layer of sticky and wet fabric. He wants to put his face there, he wants to smell you and swallow you up. 

SimJake_ : can i call you?

A sharp feeling of fear but an even bigger feeling of arousal hits you. 

You: okay…

You didn’t have to wait long, watching the bubble of him typing something to you disappear and instead getting a phone call. You knew Jake had your number and you had his, mostly for communication purposes for Sunghoon. Never was this supposed to happen. 

When you answer the phone after taking a deep breath, your eyes are nearly popping out of your head. 

Jake is shameless. 

All those nights of hearing his mans muffled through the wall are now coming through crisp and clear on the speaker. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re in his room with him. 

You don’t speak and instead, listen. You had expected him to answer the phone stuttering, trying to dirty talk but ultimately failing. It appears his drunken state offers him more than just liquid courage, but liquid lust as well.

 For a moment you stop and contemplate hanging up. Jake is drunk and you can’t help but feel as though you’re taking advantage of him. Then again, previously sober he basically fucked himself against your foot at the dinner table. 

“Feels good?” You ask with a chuckle.

 You can hear the movement of his body through the speaker and you’re aware that through the lack of slapping sounds, your panties are probably silencing what his hand is doing. 

Jake barely answers. A quick “mhm” rings through your ears alongside his deep breaths as a response instead. This isn’t typically how phone sex would go, considering dirty talking is what gets a person there. Perhaps Jake has never done this before, then again, maybe he gets off on just knowing you’re listening to him at all.

“Can you–talk?” Jake asks weakly, his hand stilling for a moment to focus solely on the image he has pulled up over your phone call. He can barely comprehend that you’re on the other line and he’s looking at your pussy pressing against slick panties.

“I like hearing you do this,” You say quickly, not very good at this type of thing yourself despite knowing how it should usually go. You slowly start to trace your fingers against your panties, wondering if Jake would be gentle like this too, nervous even. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a small choked moan as he begins to move his hand again. “You’re not weirded out?”

“If I was weirded out I wouldn’t have sent you photos.” You snap, frustrated suddenly with the whole situation that this is your boyfriend’s brother. “Stop calling it weird–” You trail off, listening intently to the shifting sounds you hear through the speaker. 

“Sunghoon isn’t home right now,” Jake suddenly admits, and you can feel the arousal disappear almost instantly as you hear his name. The reality hitting you, but still not caring enough to stop.

“Don’t talk about him right now, This isn’t right but–”

“But what?” Jake asks with a hopeful voice, this time pulling his hand away completely and feeling his heart double in speed.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” You let out, finally pressing your fingers beneath the lining of your panties. “I know it’s wrong.”

Like music to Jake’s ears, he feels the eagerness in his body swell to the point that it’s difficult to maintain. Sunghoon has everything that Jake wants. A good career, a nice house, needed life skills. All of those things could be obtained with hard work and effort for Jake, but you. You were the one thing he was never supposed to have. You were the one aspect of Sunghoon’s life that Jake wouldn’t have the ability to work his way towards, but he did. 

He has you right now, in this moment, and he feels like nothing could break him. He knows it’s wrong just like you do, but Jake is selfish too. 

He doesn’t think you meant to feel this way, because he always sees the good in people, and if you were doing this with any other man he would definitely snitch on you if he found out. But you’re doing it with him and he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt at this moment. So what if he he wants to fuck his big brother’s girlfriend? You reciprocate the fucking feeling. 

A small part of Jake’s brain is still anxious though. That little still-sober sliver of his moral code trying to fight its way to the front. Does he go with his heart or with his brain? Should he stop? Will he be able to look you in the eye tomorrow? Will he be able to ever look his brother in the eye? 

He isn’t sure. Both his heart and his brain tells him to go for you, the only thing telling him not to is the thought of his brother. The good news about that is, with you on the other end of this line, Sunghoon is pushed to the back of his mind. 

“You can have me, you know.” He almost whispers, staring down at his heavy cock resting against his belly, panties left dangling off the tip. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Those are dangerous words. Words you know you shouldn’t accept or be turned on by. 

“I bet you wouldn’t–” You cut yourself off in a deep breath, pressing against your clit and rubbing harshly. Jake isn’t even talking much, just offering himself on a fucking platter to you, and it’s driving your body to fucking yearn. 

“Oh, shit, are you–” Jake swallows hard, the reality that you might actually be touching yourself on the other line sending waves of heat down his body. He thought it was just him and only had the hopes that you wouldn’t start making fun of him for it. 

“Oh, fuck.” He says, quickly moving his hand to grip against his cock again and already feeling too sensitive from the short moments of neglect. “Where are your hands?” 

“In my panties.”

Jake groans, dropping his phone by his ear on the pillow and using his other hand to grip something, anything as he opts to imagine your fingers sliding beneath the panties you’d shown him in the photo.

You can tell he’s holding his breath, focusing on feeling good in the way he releases short, quick groans every now and then. You keep yourself silent though, trying to hear him, trying to imagine what he’s doing while thinking of you. 

The dripping mess between your legs is being spread by your fingers as you scissor your lips open easily, letting a small groan roll off your tongue for him to hear. Satisfied by his responsive deep breath and sigh, you finally plunge your fingers in. 

“Can you hear it, Jake?” You ask in a breath, lowering the phone a bit so that he can hear your fingers slide in and out of you with a wet sound. 

He chokes on his end at that, swiping the panties off of him to replace the feeling of fabric with the feeling of his closed fist. His precum smears beautifully, offering him the sensation that if he squeezes hard enough, he can imagine that he’s fucking into your warm and wet cunt. He can hear how wet you sound and it’s driving him up a fucking wall not being able to physically see you do it in front of him. 

“This is all I'm going to think about tomorrow–” He groans out, tightening his fist even more and bucking his hips into it. “You sound so,”

“Wet for you?”

That’s all it takes before Jake is gasping out a string of curses, the orgasm both sending him into a sobering world of pleasure and an even drunker state of wanting you to himself. Strings of white spurting all along his belly and going as far as his chin, he throws his other hand up and bites hard against the skin on his knuckle as he works through it.

 He doesn’t want to moan through this, he wants to hear just how fast your fingers are moving, how fast you’d want him to fuck you. He wants to think about how you must be imagining him right now, feeling good and breaking the rules for him. 

Finally, after an embarrassingly long orgasm from Jake, his room goes silent and his ears tune in to the speaker on his phone. You’re cooing, letting out pretty little breaths between the smacking sounds of your palms coming into contact with your clit as you fuck yourself. He can’t believe you’re doing this with him, and even after his own orgasm he’s still incredibly aroused despite his cock softening. 

“You still there?” You groan out. He can tell the phone is closer to what your hands are doing than it is to your face, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’m still here–” He swallows hard, catching his breath as he practically studies the audio you’re feeding to him. 

“I bet that felt good,” You compliment his orgasm that was glaringly obvious on your end. You imagine he doesn’t even recognize that his hand was audible against his cock, and the sheer speed you heard of what he was doing made your clenching walls ache with everything you shouldn’t be wanting.”Wish I could see you right now–” 

Jake did contemplate face timing you instead, but that was crossing more of a line in his head than just calling you. Plus, he would have probably hidden himself from view the entire time. It’s not like he expected to actually have you fucking yourself on the other end of the line, but here you are, and here he is, cum all over him. 

He snaps a quick photo for you, and in your head you whimper a small “yes” at the sound of the shutter from his camera. 

“Send it.” You demand softly, pulling your phone from your stomach and holding it in front of your face. 

He does as you ask and feels embarrassed by the pools of cum all over his stomach. The photo consists mostly of his chest down. You can see his plush and bitten lips at the top of the photo though, and his quite big softening cock lying spent against his stomach, smearing some of the cum across his belly. 

Jake listens to your reaction and hum of approval when you look at the photo, a small blush fanning his cheeks out of pure adoration for you rather than lust at this moment. He listens intently, unsure of if you’re going to work yourself to orgasm or hang up on him before he gets the chance to hear it. 

The point is, Jake is getting a part of you that only Sunghoon should have, and he will be damned to pretend he doesn’t like it. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with an immense amount of guilt in your head, you almost bail at going to Sunghoon’s house this weekend. You’ve already called out of work simply because you find yourself thinking of Jake more than you should, and the guilt only wavers from you feeling like a piece of shit, to almost being a thought that you can push aside. 

Sunghoon would kill Jake if he found out, and you, what would he even do with you? Break up with you? Insult you? 

Still, the thought of him finding out is the only reason you feel guilty. Because you still don’t regret showing Jake, letting him hear you, or hearing and seeing him. In fact, you don’t intend to stop either. You want him too much at this point, and he seems to be in the same place as you when it comes to this situation. Jake wouldn’t tell on you because then, he would be telling on himself. 

After all, he only moved in with Sunghoon so he could taste freedom outside of his parent’s house. The strict curfews, the password protected websites despite him being a fucking adult, the supervision of his own money and belongings. Sunghoon knew the pain of living there, and that’s why he accepted Jake with open arms. 

Sunghoon was a good brother and an even better boyfriend. You and Jake on the other hand? Jake’s an awful brother and you’re an even worse girlfriend. Sunghoon doesn’t deserve any of this, and he doesn’t deserve any of what’s to come either. You’re in too deep with Jake now though, and the glaring attraction is too strong to ignore. 

Never in your life did you think you could find yourself being unfaithful, let alone with your own boyfriend’s sibling, yet here you are. Only guilty if you get caught. 

Jake had texted you at least three thousand times with apologies throughout the night and morning. Admitting that his head hurt too much this morning to be realizing what the two of you did. He said he wouldn’t approach you when you come over, apologized again, and then promised to never tell Sunghoon and to never hold it against you if you think he’s weird for doing all of that to you.

Reading over his string of messages, you realize that Jake is blaming himself. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you and wanting you to feel secure and safe in something you did without a second thought. 

On his end though, Jake is in his room staring at the two photos you sent to him the night before. Partially wondering if it was all just a dream at first, these pictures of you are the truth of how you feel towards him though. At least last night, that’s how it was. So, when you never text him back today? He doesn’t think too hard about why despite his heart feeling shattered by it. 

When you still show up at that day, he doesn’t question that you’re not eye fucking him the second you walk in through the door either. 

Jake was once again lounging on the couch when you walked in and Sunghoon was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t texted you either. Awkwardly, Jake speaks up before you can question it.

“He told me to let you know that he was gonna be late again. Said something about knowing you’d spam him with needy text messages while he’s in a last-minute work meeting.”

You look to the floor for a second, wondering if the real reason Sunghoon didn’t text you personally like he always did is because he found out somehow. 

“Oh.” You sigh, slipping off your shoes and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. 

“He doesn’t know, don’t worry–” Jake assures you as he stands to his feet and heads towards his room. “Sorry about last night, I won't do that again.”

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve been slouched against Sunghoon’s couch for at least an hour by now and your mind is still doing a back and forth between taking advantage of this alone time with Jake, or worrying about how you shouldn’t be left alone with him at all.

The glaringly obvious issue in your head right now is the fact that you’re alone with Jake and you’re not upset about it. Jake assured you that Sunghoon didn’t find out, and the fact that Jake is the best source of finding out exactly what Sunghoon knows is more of a comfort than anything to you right now. 

Thinking back to the night before, you remember releasing your orgasm on the phone and hearing him compliment you through it. You have the photo of him saved within your gallery, hidden from your too-trusting boyfriend’s eyes. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Jake’s lower half bare. He really is huge, and it’s a shame, really, that you want it so badly.

It’s not even shocking to you at this point that you can feel guilty and anxious one moment and immediately switch into some sex-starved beast at the very thought of Jake. 

“maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?” The text message you sent to him spreads across your thoughts, knowing full well that you’re probably going to get intimate with Sunghoon later, the least you can do is let Jake have some first if he wants it, right? 

You cautiously stand to your feet with a deep breath. The fact that you allow yourself to continuously dig the hole deeper for yourself? So deep that you’ll never be able to pull yourself from it? It’s laughable at how tiny of a worry that is in your mind when you know that Jake is seething in his bedroom right now.

 Maybe it's just what Jake does to your thoughts? The images of him are too good to be able to ignore, the guilt not nearly enough to make you stop wanting him. 

Sunghoon isn’t in your mind when you reach into your bag and grab the soiled panties you had soaked completely the night before, and Sunghoon barely exists at all in your thoughts when you make your way down the hall and lean against Jake’s closed door. 

“I wouldn’t say no.” was what Jake had messaged you before, guess now is the time to find out. 

Opening his door without so much as a knock, Jake doesn't appear to notice you at all as his back stays turned and he focuses on the screen in front of him. The large headset is sitting comfortably on his ears and you’re sure that the volume is up far too loud to be healthy. You can hear his friend’s yelling directions, where enemies are hiding and where they’re headed next. 

You smirk for a moment, noting how much of a typical college boy Jake is. Messy room, messy hair, messy relationship with his brother’s girlfriend. You can imagine he feels pride in what he was able to do with you, and that’s not even an ego boost on your end. 

You wonder if he’s told his friends anything at all. Not about who he likes or who he’s been getting intimate with even if not too-directly, but like, that he’s been getting fed sexual fantasies by someone in general. You wonder if he talks you up, then again, what if he hasn’t mentioned it at all? 

Why does that thought upset you?

“Where were you last night anyway?” You hear over the too-loud headset as you come up behind Jake with the panties in your hand. 

“Busy getting laid, unlike you losers.” Jake boasts, but you snicker at how he’s both lying and telling the truth.

“Bullshit–” You hear another insult coming through his headset before you finally are right behind him. 

Part of you wants to prove him right so his friends think he’s cool or something, but then again, what if they recognize your voice? Surely these are his friends from back home, some two to three hours from this city. Surely they don’t know you, right?

“No, really.” You lean down against Jake’s headset and speak in a tone that isn’t too common for you and he freezes. 

“Now, hold on–” A voice sounds through his headset and you can’t help but feel happy for him in the way they, for some reason, can’t believe Jake’s got some girl in this city interested in him. 

When Jake tries to turn his body to look at you, you hold the chair in place. Knowing yourself how headsets work, you lift his mic until it clicks, hoping to god the mute function works like it’s supposed to and start talking.

“Don’t move, keep playing if you want.” You say, dangling the panties over his head and lowering them in front of his face.

More arousing than gross, you watch Jake’s face fall forward against them. Part of him can’t believe you’re really doing this right now despite leaving his messages on read. But you are, and these are the panties that he thought about all last night and most of today. He really meant it when he said that would be the only thing he would be thinking about, and here you are, keeping the promise of giving them to him.

Reaching up and clutching the panties, Jake tries to turn towards you again. 

“Stay,” You say. “And hush.” You lower his mic back into place where he is no longer muted and listen as his friends go from talking shit to starting up another game. 

From behind his chair, you’re a little shocked at how good he is at following what you say. He doesn’t move, but you can hear his breathing and the way he struggles to balance it in order to remain some-what normal sounding to his friends when they address him. His fingers are shaking against his keyboard as the game starts, and you think he’s probably thought about this happening to him hundreds of times before. 

Maybe not with you, but still. 

Gamer boys always want this kind of thing. Some girl prodding and tugging at them, sucking them off under the table as they boast to their friends how they can be getting head and still getting gold damage by the time the match is over. 

All you can think about right now is being the person to fulfill the fantasies you assume he has. More turned on by the idea that Jake must want it so badly from you than admitting how badly you want it to be true. 

 When you reach around him, lying your hand against his lap, he’s already incredibly hard and stares down at it as the countdown screen on his game begins. 

From out of sight, you don’t want Jake to see you. In fact, you want to see how badly he plates this game through this, because it’s not only cute but will actually be fucking hilarious. Especially because it’s the first time you’re moving on him rather than him grinding against whatever you have to offer.

Ignoring the call outs of enemies in game, both of you spiral into a world of your own again when you grab his length from over his sweatpants and just–you just hold him for a moment. The weight of it grows much heavier as he somehow manages to get more hard at the fact that you’re in the room with him. Plus, for Jake at least, your used panties sitting right there only drives his cock further to pulse and beg for your hand. 

“Jesus–” Jake groans when you grab him.

“Jesus is right, you haven’t moved from that fucking building you cuck-” Some guy shouts from his head set.

“Shut the fuck up Heeseung, you’re literally in bronze.” Another man shouts.

Jake is silent save for a sharp inhale when you squeeze your palm around him. He knows if he even tries to talk shit right now all of his friends would just fucking know how desperate and embarrassing he is around you. That’s the last thing he needs.

Finally, after a few moments of palming him through his pants, you dip right in. He doesn’t shy away from it either, spreading his legs from under his desk and lifting his ass up slightly so you can pull the pants down to let his cock spring free. 

You silently gasp noting how Jake is even bigger than the photos gave him credit for, thicker than you genuinely imagined now that you see it from over his shoulder. Jake tries to turn his head this time to look at you, but you’re quick to catch his cheek and turn it back to the screen with a chuckle. 

Gripping him again, Jake sighs into his mic and his friend’s screaming goes silent. You’re quick to lift his mic into the muted position just to offer some sort of escape from embarrassment now seeing that he’s incredibly willing to let you do this while his ego is on the line.

“You want them to hear?” You ask, feeling his hips slightly buck into your grip. That sends shivers down your spine, finally feeling it for the first time.

“I don’t care–” He sighs desperately, thrusting his hips up harder. “Please, just don’t stop.”

The way he says it, for some reason, sounds so fucking broken that you could honestly swirl this chair around and impale yourself on him without so much as a second thought. But you contain yourself, now moving your grip up his length and thumbing over the head to feel the sheer amount of pre-cum spilling out of him

“Alright, Jakey.” You soothe, lowering his mic for the last time and wondering just how much he’s going to let his shithead friends hear.

For a few moments, you gently jerk him off just to see his hips chase your fist. He’s needy in the way he moves his body but very fucking good at acting as you start to count each kill he manages to get through this. 

By the time you hear his friends praise him, you feel a little competitive yourself. Shy, needy, desperate little Jake thinks he can get through a game the very first time you actually touch him? Perhaps he thinks he is giving you what you want, but what you want is to see him fall apart. 

You move your hand faster, watching him from behind as he chokes up and slams his head against the headrest of his chair, nearly knocking the headphones off of him. 

“God,” Jake moans, knowing full well that his friends wouldn’t suspect anything if he says such a thing. 

You know that was for you though, so you continue. The rhythm of your hand moving from a slow drag to something painfully fast and unfathomably good. Jake’s head is spinning, thrusting his hips up and gripping his computer mouse so tightly that he thinks he could crush it in his grip. 

When his pre-cum is essentially drenching your palm, the slide of your hand keeps a fast pace, pulling groans out of him every few seconds. 

Jake can’t hold himself back anymore, slamming his head against the headrest of his seat yet again, this time his headset sliding off of his head and falls into the floor. He lols his head from side to side as he finally lets out a full-throated moan, shooting a hand to your wrist and holding it in place so that he can fuck up into it. 

You gasp at that, his grip harsh and far less gentle than you’d expect. The muffled screams of his friends are blatantly obvious and you can’t bring yourself to care if the mic muted itself during its descent to the floor or not. 

He’s choking each moan that threatens to be too loud, and honestly, you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He goes from releasing your hand just to stare down at the way you grip him, to grabbing it again and fucking into it harder. 

It’s way too endearing seeing him like this. 

He tries to turn to see you again shortly after, so desperate to kiss you, so desperate just to fucking see what you like like when you’re doing this to him, but you do your best to remain behind him as you grab the base of his cock and cause him to groan in pain.

“Let me see you–” He nearly sobs in a frustrated way, and for a moment you contemplate letting him. 

“Let me hear you.” You respond, keeping that same, painfully tight, grip against him and dragging it up to his head, enveloping it and sending sensitive shocks throughout his body. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jake writhes under the painful grasp, but his hips still chase when you drag your hand back down. 

He’s no longer being quiet, no longer pretending to care about his dead character on the screen, re-spawning and dying every few seconds. He’s a free kill for any enemy player right now and you can tell his friend’s are pissed in the way the screaming from the headset gets louder despite the distance. 

The chat box on screen is being spammed just as aggressively, and Jake can barely even open his eyes to process it. 

“You were playing so well,” You coo out, shifting forward a bit and placing your chin on his shoulder. “What happened, Jakey?” 

He softly moans at the nickname you’ve now used more than once, eyes half open as he glances down at how fast your hand is moving compared to your soft, balanced voice against his ear. He turns his head quickly, trying to catch you off guard, but you pull away.

“Wanna see me so bad, huh?” You chuckle, working him up and knowing that he’s got to be close with the way he shamelessly moans in the most annoyed, frustrated way. 

“Let me kiss you.” He grunts, bucking his hips aggressively, now chasing in full that painful grip you’re keeping against him so well. “I’ll keep my eyes closed, please.”

You contemplate again giving him what he wants, but you figure he’s already getting more than enough. 

“Oh? You’ll keep your eyes closed? Don’t you want to look at me?” 

Jake is desperate now, hands moving to the armrests of his chair as he grips them hard, hips wildly stuttering in your grasp. 

“Fuck, yes.” He lets out, dropping his head with a deep breath and then throwing his head back with an even longer moan. 

You can’t tell if that was him answering you, or simply reacting to what his body is feeling, and you don’t really care. He’s already there, walking on the thin line of orgasm and willing to take whatever it is you give him. He no longer wants anything, he’s just experiencing. 

You watch him from behind very closely, the shiver running from his toes straight to his ears was obvious enough.

“That’s it,” You whisper from behind. “Give it to me.”

Jake’s entire body tenses against the chair, you can feel it stress from the way his legs spread wider and his hips go from quick thrusts to short, drawn-out drags against your palm. The image of him doing that between your legs washes over every single one of your thoughts. He would do that. Burying himself so deeply as he spills out inside of you, thrusting in and slowly dragging his hips out, just to thrust in again to push his seed impossibly deeper.

“That’s so hot,” Jake comments with a deep breath, and only then do you realize the small moan you’d let out during that intense thought of him. Especially as you watch his cum is spill out in loads, leaving a mess all over himself and your hands.

Finally, after making a mess of him, you smile to yourself and do your best to appear not as flustered as you actually are.

Either way, a job well done. 

You opt to make a grand exit, saying nothing after releasing his cock and sauntering out of the room in silence to leave him to his thoughts. You could still hear his friends screaming through the microphone, and he doesn’t even call out after you. Jake must feel on top of the world right now, because you know that you do.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon comes home later than he did last time, tired and droopy. He finds himself drawn to you more than usual, noting that your eyes are sparkling a little brighter upon walking through his door. 

You put Jake in the back of your head much like you always tried to do when Sunghoon is around you these days. Your love for your boyfriend is still blatant and honest when you’re next to him, not at all feeling pity for Jake having to see it. Jake should know who it is you love, despite the fact that you jerked him off mere hours ago.

When Sunghoon is next to you, when his arm is around you and his eyes are on you, you don’t question for a second that everything you’ve been doing behind his back will come back on you, and it’ll be well-deserved pain. But there’s still a part of you that hopes you can keep Sunghoon forever and always be happy beside him. You’re actively betraying him, his own flesh and blood is helping you dig this hole deeper and deeper. So deep that Sunghoon can’t even see the bottom where Jake’s got his hands on you. 

Fully intending to keep them both, you find yourself feeling more fulfilled despite the awful moral. Sunghoon isn’t willing to share, but Jake is. 

And you, you don’t have to share.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Saturday was as normal as always. Jake pops in and out of his room, not even once acting as if something suspicious is going on. If anything, Sunghoon is a little more happy to see you spend time with Jake when he’s not in his room.

 It was awkward at first. Jake’s always been shy but it seems like he’s loosened up after realizing you’re a permanent part of the picture for as long as you’re with Sunghoon. He’s endeared by the way you bully his brother the same way he does. 

Even that little crush Jake had on you when he first met you appears to have fallen into more of a sibling-like relationship to Sunghoon. He thought it was cute that Jake had a crush, after all, it’s you. Sunghoon fucking fell head over heels when you gave him attention and wouldn’t be caught dead releasing his grip on you once he asked you to be his girlfriend. The point is, Sunghoon knew Jake had a small crush but was pleased to see it turn into something more casual and comfortable.

 He likes his life, loves his girlfriend, and loves his brother. Nothing could get better than spending time with the two of you, even if Jake jumps up to go be a recluse in his room from time to time.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jake,” Heeseung grits through the mic. 

“What?” Jake sighs nonchalantly, throwing his arms behind his head as he smiles to himself through the webcam.

“You should be embarrassed.” Heeseung argues. “We didn’t wanna hear that shit.”

“I muted him.” Jay says with a shrug through his own camera.. 

“Yeah, me too.” Jungwon follows up, all eyes now falling to Heeseung, who is avoiding the camera and scratching the back of his neck with a shrug.

“I was in a tight situation! I couldn’t tab out.” Heeseung defends himself easily, still a darker shade than usual.

“I think she wanted you guys to hear.” Jake laughs quietly, whispering. 

“Why are you whispering?” Jay asks, leaning forward towards his camera as if Jake was about to whisper out again, this time with a deeper secret. 

Instead, Jake shifts his eyes and changes the subject. As much as he would love to tell his friends that he’s managed to get a handjob (not the foot thing) from his brother’s girlfriend, he’s sure they’d have a little more respect for him. But it feels like a betrayal to say it out loud, regardless of how hot the idea is in his head.

“Because my brother is with his girlfriend and it’s weird if they know what happens when they’re not here.” Jake explains, receiving a nod from everyone.

“She left her panties,” Jake now adds in a cheeky voice, removing his hands from behind his head and sitting up from his relaxed position. “Wanna see?”

Heeseung was, obviously, the first to nod his head and Jake didn’t really need the others to agree anyway, because they’re a group of college guys who are always either talking about getting laid or how to raise their rank when playing competitive games.

“Damn,” Jay laughs as he sees the thin fabric come into view. “Are they dirty?” 

“Oh yeah,” Jake boasts, spreading out the fabric and bringing them close to the camera. 

“That’s so gross.” Heeseung waves them off, averting his eyes and trying to pretend he’s not interested.

“Jake’s full of shit.” Jungwon chimes in quickly, only to be shut down by Heeseung’s weird need to defend.

“You heard her talk to him through the mic, there’s no way he’s lying.” 

“Uh, no I didn’t. I had him muted the second I saw his hero standing in the middle of the map without moving.” Jay argues back.

“Well, I lied, I didn’t mute him.” Jungwon finally admits. “Still, though. There’s no way she gave you those.”

Jake can’t stop smiling. The fact that he can barely believe what happened himself is enough not to argue. They’re your panties, that’s your scent in them, and that was your hand wrapped around him yesterday. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up on Sunday felt, again, normal. You hadn’t heard Jake through the walls the night before but Sunghoon sure did. He mostly drowned out the sounds by putting in his headphones though, unlike what you would have done. Sunghoon did, however, wake up hard considering the two of you passed out the night before without so much as a lingering hand.

To his dismay, you groan at his roaming hands as he wakes you up. Sunghoon knows you love being woken up this way, but he also knows to stop if you’re making a sound like this over it. 

“What’s wrong?” He says, pulling his hand back and instead, placing it on your waist so that he can pull you closer and into a cuddle. 

You don’t respond, cracking an eye open and immediately feeling your head pound at the sunlight shining through the windows. You feel bad that since thursday, the only intimacy you’ve had has been with Jake despite being in love with the man against you. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you immediately, physically, feel like shit this morning, you’d be jumping Sunghoon’s bones. 

“Head is pounding.” 

“Ah,” Sunghoon smiles, hugging you against him and rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. “It’s okay, you can sleep in. I’m gonna go make some breakfast.”

Your boyfriend’s good mood doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does your headache. You take him up on that offer and immediately fall back to sleep.

Later, you wake to Sunghoon gently patting your cheek. 

“You want some food? Might help?” 

You nod, squinting your eyes and sitting up a little too quickly. You glance around as he turns away and heads back towards the kitchen, and then you stretch your arms out. Things feel too fucking normal for you to be doing what you’ve been doing. This headache is well fucking deserved, surely. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you note that Jake’s bedroom door is open but he isn’t anywhere to be found.

“Where’s Jake?” You ask casually, sitting down at the table and rubbing your temples.

“Said something about one of his friends coming to a city nearby and wanting to go hang out with him. Probably Heeseung.” 

Your heart starts beating in your ears at the thought that you really thought Sunghoon wouldn’t know any of Jake’s friends. Sure, you thought that maybe they were just online friends, or maybe people Jake met after Sunghoon moved out of his parent’s house, but you recognize that fucking name. 

Thankfully, you had changed your voice just slightly as you spoke to Jake the other day. Surely this isn’t what would ruin the entire arrangement.

“Ah,” You groan. “Finally we have the house to ourselves and I have to wake up with a migraine? What lousy luck.” 

“It’s okay, really.” Sunghoon smiles, sitting a plate of food down in front of you. “Besides, we both know you like the thrill of needing to be quiet.” 

He’s joking, you know he is, but it was the truth before this whole thing with Jake started. 

“If we really wanted to be alone, I'd be at your apartment every weekend.”Your boyfriend adds, planting a kiss to the top of your head and heading towards the medicine cabinet. “Little weird that it has to be my brother that we are keeping quiet from, but whatever.”

“Didn’t know i’d be this into it, honestly.” You admit, feeling open enough to at least tell him that you’re very into the idea of someone hearing you. You just won't admit that you want it to be Jake.

“I mean, I personally am not into this type of thing. It’s a little uncomfortable for me.” Sunghoon sits down and hands you two painkillers. “But I doubt he’s actually listening. I apologized after the first time and he said he usually just puts in headphones and goes to sleep.”

You hold back the smile of Jake’s blatant lies towards Sunghoon. 

“So, I guess I don’t entirely mind feeding into your little fantasies of being heard, or caught, or whatever.”

Your boyfriend waves off the conversation with a smile, ultimately willing the fact that it is weird to him out of his head. If that was a new thing you realized you liked, the only way you would have found out is by having someone else in the house when the two of you do those things. Unfortunately, Jake’s the reason. 

 In Sunghoon’s head, he’s mature enough to discuss it like an adult with his brother. Guidelines and rules, moving Jake in wasn’t going to change his sex life with you, if anything, he had already told Jake to invest in some decent headphones or earplugs because he’s gonna hear some shit otherwise.

You allow the conversation to die as you work up an appetite. Thankfully Sunghoon is an amazing cook, though he only did it one or two nights a week considering how spent his job makes him feel. You’re thankful he cooked this morning, and even more thankful for these two little pills that will hopefully knock your headache out within the hour.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Come Monday, you’re thankful you get to work from home. You sleep in and try your best not to think about the fact that Sunghoon knows the friends that heard you be intimate with Jake. You’re even more thankful for this week away from your boyfriend’s house because, even though you’ve processed everything, you feel like you should probably be alone for a while and really think about what you’re doing.

When Jake is around or texting you, it’s hard to think straight because you genuinely want him so fucking bad. And when Sunghoon is beside you, or texting you, all you can do is imagine a future with him.

The once bright, clear future of Sunghoon in a tuxedo standing in front of you at some extravagant altar becomes a little more foggy at the thought of where Jake would fit into it. Would he be behind Sunghoon, watching him marry you to start a real life together? Would he be somewhere in the crowd, waiting to object and expose you for the awful girlfriend you are? Or even worse, would he not be there at all? Running away and disappearing never to insert himself into your life or his brother’s life ever again?

You don’t want to think about the future right now. Everything you’ve been doing has been so selfish and so fucking fulfilling that you can’t bring yourself to feel any amount of pity for Sunghoon and the way he trusts you fully. You never once gave him a reason to not trust you, and you think maybe Jake hasn’t given him a reason either. 

But god, he shouldn’t trust either of you at all. He’s at work, making money, living his life with a supposed loving girlfriend all while offering his little brother an ounce of freedom. What does he get in response to his hard work and kindness? His brother wanting to tongue fuck his girlfriend? And worse yet, his girlfriend wants it even more than his brother does? 

Your mind is burning through scenarios all day if you have it in you to feel bad. Another scenario involves you, married to Sunghoon and sneaking Jake out of your bed when Sunghoon returns from work. Even more scenarios of Sunghoon finding out and hating you forever, leaving you and meeting someone better. How could you have them both and keep it going? Is something like that even possible?

Then you get a text.The glaring reality blows right past your head when you’re expecting it to be Jake but you see Sunghoon’s name on the screen. You still feel just as excited though. 

Sunghoon: good news and great news

You: oh? 

Sunghoon: Good news: a co-worker has family issues and had to drop out of the business trip coming up.

You were about to question why that’s good news, but then Sunghoon quickly texts again.

Sunghoon: great news: i am now being asked to attend the event and it could get me a pretty big promotion. 

You: You’re gonna go right?? When is it?

Honestly, the way your heart swells at your boyfriend moving up in the world could knock anyone on their feet. No one would ever guess what you do behind his back, because again, you haven’t lost an ounce of love for this man and you probably never will.

Sunghoon: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

You: how long is it? do you need help packing since it’s such short notice?

Sunghoon: only three days, so i’d be back on friday and still get to see you this weekend

You: it’s a win/win! i can come over tonight since i’m working from home today.

Sunghoon: you good to sleep over and drop me off in the morning at the airport? i can give them an answer now so they can work out the transport and get the tickets transferred to me. 

You: you didn’t need to even ask!! you should have immediately said yes! I’ll be over tonight, i’m proud of you babe! 

Sunghoon: love you :) 

And so there it is. The glaring issue about to become a blatant, full blown affair. And like, you don’t want to get it twisted. You are so fucking proud of Sunghoon and so fucking glad that everything in his life appears to be rushing him straight to major success, but also, he’s going to be gone for three days and that’s three days to try and get over this whole Jake phase. By using Jake. By fucking him, specifically.

It doesn’t help that just a few moments later, presumably after Sunghoon lets Jake know the plan, Jake is texting you.

Jake: Sunghoon’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep 

Jake: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Jake: gonna clean my room

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Dropping Sunghoon off is weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence is clearly through the roof as he kisses you goodbye. Even after he walks away, he quickly rushes back to you and asks for a second kiss, citing it’s for good luck. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Sunghoon did was with effort and thought put into it. You’re not the only person who sees it either. 

That was the sweet part anyway. The bitter part is the guilt finally coming to you like it should have weeks ago. The fact that Sunghoon is walking off to get on an airplane and Jake is at home cleaning his room to fuck you in it? It’s obvious that you don’t deserve either of them. 

Still, the guilt hitting you now is unnerving. It took so long to come, and only consumes you when Sunghoon isn’t around to nearly witness the infidelity? Shaking yourself of disgust, you head out of the airport and still find yourself pulling into Sunghoon’s driveway against your better judgement. 

You sit in your car for a moment, thinking back on all of those small moments with Jake, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of what could be. 

As expected, with a huff, you accept the fact that even through the guilt, you still want him.

Stepping out of your car and walking up to the door felt too unfamiliar and nerve wracking, especially with the fact that you can hear your heart skip beats and your body melt away into the hole you fucking dug for yourself. However, the moment Jake opens the door and looks at you, before you can even unlock it yourself, every single guilt ridden thought disappears. 

You don’t know what it is about him, and surely you’ve never felt this way before, because goddamn is it a blinding kind of feeling. Thinking back as you look at him, he seems different now despite having the same face and body language.

 Before, Jake was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Jake, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Sunghoon is drowned out in the back of your mind, as usual when you find yourself alone with Jake. 

Jake is still shy and timid in the way he moves but he knows just as well as you do what’s about to happen and isn’t at all shying away from the fact that he’s about to fulfill every dirty little thought he’s had about you since he met you. Hell, since he saw photos of you that Sunghoon sent before he ever met you.

On cloud nine, Jake is timid when he, for the first time, makes a move on you himself. It’s shocking that he does it at all if you’re being honest, but you lean into him on instinct. All he does is grab your hand, a touch that wouldn’t raise suspicions at all in Sunghoon if he were to see it, but to you it’s the most intimate thing he could do at this moment. Because he’s leading you, and his eyes are hungry and unable to pull from you. 

Not a single word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Jake leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying that it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless. 

You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Jake realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Sunghoon, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it. 

Jake is even more gentle when he lets your hand go and turns towards you with a deep sigh, as if he’s preparing his entire being for what’s coming. Both of you like a deer in headlights, as if this wasn’t intentional or planned, you smile at him. 

Jake lets out a nervous laugh at your smile, shaking his head and looking down. He’s already stiff beneath his pants, which are conveniently unbuttoned and unzipped already. Even you, shamelessly wearing a dress with no panties. Sunghoon thought it was for him, and he damn well did fuck you this morning while on a confident-high before you took him to the airport.

You knew Jake could hear it, and he didn’t appear to care because in all fairness, Jake did not give a damn. He knew you weren’t his at that moment, but you fucking would be before the night is up. The next three days, you’re his. Even if he never has you again.

That deer-in-the-headlights look from Jake fades as his eyes take you in without hiding it for the first time. You imagine he will fall apart if he were to trace his hands under your dress and find that you are completely bare, you imagine you would fall apart much faster if he touched you at all.

It happens so fast. Too fast, almost, with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. Well, you knew he was taller than you, but at this moment he seems so much bigger than usual. 

 His breathing is uneven as he stares at your lips and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would. 

Looking up at him, you want to reach up and grip his hair. His lips are so plush, clearly freshly coated with chapstick. His skin is practically glowing save for the few blemishes that the fringe on his forehead covers, you find yourself wondering if he’s taking this moment to study you too.

“I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Jake whispers out, inches from your face. “This is going to be embarrassing for me.”

“Don’t hold back.” You encourage him without doubt, hoping that he can break past that last little boundary the two of you haven’t crossed yet. The one where he can kiss you, touch you, have you. Only because you can’t bring yourself to do it at this moment, for some reason.

The feeling of his lips touching yours is more bruising than you think he intended them to be, but the desperate feeling was all the same as your own, you think. Never have you actually stopped to think of kissing him or how he would go about it. Like running in blind, you’re learning that Jake knows what to do with his tongue, how to pace himself despite not wanting to, and how to reach up and hold your face in such a way that you feel like this could very well be a dream.

A perfect dream. 

His hands are cupping your face though, you can feel the way his fingertips press into your cheeks as he makes his attempts to deepen the kiss. And fuck, he’s kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone. 

When his hands drop from your face and fall to your waist, every new place he touches feels like it’s set ablaze. You press forward against his chest, walking him back as you lick into to kiss, all the way until he falls back on his bed with a happy and dazed ‘oof’ sound. 

Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt. So badly do you want to see him shirtless again, and he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again. 

Now that the initial intimacy has been established, you finally come back to yourself, thinking more clearly and finding a small list in your head of things you want and need to do for him. Starting with letting him really look at you.

“I know how much you like my panties–” You smile, standing in front of him and trying to keep your eyes averted from his length threatening to break through his pants. 

“Yes, god, let me see it.” Jake urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs. 

He thinks you must be wearing the prettiest pair today, for him, not for his brother. But when you lift your leg and straddle him, his face contorts to confusion and then to pleasure when you sit against his cock. Of course, with the fabric covering his length, he still can’t tell that you’re not actually wearing any panties at all.

“You wanna see?” You ask for his clarification, bunching your dress up in your hands and preparing to lift it so he can see your bare folds sitting against him. 

Jake blinks at you, nodding his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach up and grab your waist just to guide you on him. He’s afraid to move too fast, he’s afraid to embarrass himself with how fucking desperate he is for you right now.

“Look.” You say, nodding between your legs and lifting your dress.

“Oh god,” Jake gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants. 

That’s your pussy on him. 

Without a second thought his hands are on your waist, pushing and pulling you forward and backwards on his lap. You blink hard at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against your lips harshly, and then open your eyes to look at him again.

He is still staring between your legs, almost losing himself to this alone. Then again, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you bare and he cannot get past the fact that Sunghoon gets to see it whenever he fucking wants to. 

“I can feel it–” Jake chokes back in a happy groan, referring to your slick seeping through his pants and onto him. 

You smile at him, now moving your hips on your own as you pull his hands away and push them to lay above his head. If he thinks this is good, you want to see how fast he reaches for you again.

It’s so easy when you lift yourself up, and incredibly cute in the way his eyes follow your pussy when you lift. He doesn’t even realize that you shove his sweats down and sit right back down, this time coating him in full with your slippery folds. 

“God, fuck,” He moans in disbelief, and just as expected his hands shoot to your waist and hold you down against him. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or not, but he’s incredibly sexy in the way he moves without thinking. 

“Fuck?” You question cutely, forcing your hips to slide up his length despite him trying to hold you there. 

“How are you already so wet?” He questions in a groan, still trying to process the fact that this is actually happening. His grip on you loosens, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him better. 

“How are you so big?” You try to compliment back, feeling him between your folds and wondering just how deep he could fuck you if he so wanted to. “So, so big.” You groan out this time, feeling the head of his cock bumping against your clit every few seconds.

Jake obviously doesn’t answer, his fingers are gripping your dress so tightly and his eyes are burning the image of you doing this into his head. He never wants to forget this moment of feeling you against him for probably the first and last time, because in all realness, this can’t happen again if he thinks too hard about it. 

“I want to fuck you so bad,” He admits suddenly, out of breath. “Just this once, please.” 

You nod cutely, swiping his hands away from your dress and lifting it off of you in full. His eyes are now glued to your tits and whatever it was he was saying is long forgotten as he watches them jiggle when you slide up against him again.

The way he shuts up is entirely too arousing. You can see him thinking about you, practically able to see him process every part of your body on top of him. 

“Take your pants off, Jakey.” You finally say, frustrated that clothing always gets in the way of things. 

He does as he’s told when you stand to your feet in wait, and instantly he’s lifting himself and grabbing you, pulling you right back on him. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright so that your tits are pressed right up against his own, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

You feel a bite and pull back from him, hips stilling in short panic.

“Don’t–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder, because if that’s the only thing he can’t do in this situation, he’d be a damn idiot to argue with you about it.

“Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I got you this wet, right?” Jake mocks the situation as a whole as his confidence blooms, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it. “He’d know I do it better.”

It makes you a little angry, but you get it. Jake’s confidence must be through the roof because never would you have imagined him speaking to you like this, or mentioning his brother at all at a time like this. 

“Prove it and maybe I’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right. 

His size rivals his brother’s, but can he work it the same way? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

Jake pulls back from kissing your neck only for a moment, moving to your lips and wincing at the feeling of your folds sliding against him still, maybe he did get a little too cocky there. 

“Prove it?” He breathes against your lips, gripping your waist tighter and guiding you up. 

You already know what he’s doing and don’t shy away from it. Usually there’s foreplay, and you’re sure he wanted to do more than just fuck you, but too little too late. You’re hungry for it and so is he, if the sounds between you are enough to go by. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift yourself and allow his hand to disappear between the two of you. You can feel him position himself right at your entrance and all you need to do is sink down. 

You lend a pause, staring at him for a moment. Looking straight into his eyes and recognizing that for the first time in over two years now, you’re about to fuck someone that isn’t Sunghoon. 

He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again so desperately that any doubt in your mind withers away with all that guilt you know you shouldn’t be ignoring. 

Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Jake just groans into your mouth with wet kisses. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace without giving you any time to adjust. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

He’s deeper inside of you than any man has ever been able to reach without the aid of a toy, and the head and thickness of it is far better than any plastic could ever be. You imagine you sound just as desperate as he does right now. Unable to wiggle in his grasp, you just take it. You were well versed in that, at least.

Jake holds you there for at least a full minute, feeling you clenching and drenching his cock in a way that makes the slide easy and pleasurable for him. His hips can move much faster this way, but the fear of cumming too quickly forces him to slow his movements and open his eyes in a breathy moan.

Your legs are spread out over his own, his cock is buried into you completely, and you fucking just take it? God, No wonder Sunghoon is in love with you. 

Jake looks at you lovingly, wishing so badly that his brother wasn’t in the way of having this all the time. And then? his arms release you and he’s lifting your face with one of his hands, thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin. 

Jake’s arms release you from the hug and he uses one hand to lift your face.

“Sorry, I just–” He says before getting a look at your face. Glancing between both of your empty eyes, he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you start to grind yourself against him. Chasing the pressure he was just slamming into you. 

What he was gonna say was that he was sorry he lost control for a second, but what he ends up saying now is “Fuck, I want this so bad.” 

Despite that Jake is getting everything he wants at this moment, all he can do is look at you and watch you grind your clit against his pelvic bone, chasing a pleasure that he knows you’re feeling intensely right now. He thinks of himself in pity, all those nights of wanting exactly this and never knowing that he actually fucking gets to do it.

Without thinking, Jake doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you into the big spoon position and pulling your leg up to drape over his hip. 

There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. So fucking in love.

He makes quick work to stuff you again and smiles at the way you throw your head back, opening your pretty and glistening eyes just for a split second to look at him. 

One hand now reaches around you and cradles one of your tits, the other snaking between your legs and experimentally tapping against your clit. 

“That’s right,” He boasts, trying his best not to drool as your droopy eyes struggle to stay on him for too long. “Look at me.” 

“Damn, Jake,” You manage to say in an aroused laugh, realizing that he’s really fucking you in the spooning position now? Of course he fucking would. It’s such an intimate position, and the angle, you could argue, is one of the best you think you’ve ever felt. 

Paired with his words? Goddamn.

“Hm?” He hums against your shoulder once he lays his head there, feeling your body jerk as he fucks his length into you repeatedly. “Feels good?” He asks, moaning himself this time at the way you close your legs around his hand and grind back against him.

He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own hip. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and if your sounds are anything to go by? He can say that it’s absolutely fucking true.

This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you have before, he loses composure again. Any chance of his focus being on you and you alone is now long fucking gone, baby. 

Even as he tries to put his fingers against your clit again, the movements are messy, messy, messy. Thankfully, his hips are fucking you with full intent now. He’s trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can at least try to focus on your pleasure more, but god, fuck.

After one particularly deep thrust, you shiver and he fucking loses it.

“Oh my god, I found it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way. “Right here? Baby, yeah?” He continues, repeatedly slamming you with the head of his cock bumping just where you need it.

“Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Ahh- Jake, don’t stop!” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips now, giving in to the pleasure and now losing all ability to speak at all. 

He does, pressing his hips harder this time, a grunt spilling from his bitten lips with every forceful thrust. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you, over and over again, ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex. 

Jake watches you roll your head back, moaning out with a slack and somewhat pained face as he does it. He cannot fucking believe he found your g-spot on the first try and he will be damned to stop now. 

He focuses now, grunting at the way your walls clench him so tightly each time he hits your spot. He’s determined to make you cum, make you babble out strings of his name and how good he feels. He needs you to feel so good that you’ll never think twice about letting him do this again, and again, and again, no matter how close you could be to getting caught. 

His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers messily working your clit, paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory. 

It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for event the smallest moment of collecting yourself. 

“Ah, you’re squeezing me–” He breathes out, words broken with his own moans as he does his best to keep pace to work you through it. “So tight–” He manages to breathe out again, not yet realizing that you’re quite literally about to cum all over him.

And you want to. So you fucking do. You cum hard around him, clenching him so tightly that Jake stills his hips in disbelief at the way your body moves when you release. He can barely get the words out when he speaks, feeling you drench him with liquid fire. “Are you–?” He chokes out, jerking his hips back and trying to pull out of you for his own release.

“Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Feels so good, just–” You cry out, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you. “I wanna feel it.” 

“Fuck. fuck.” He moans out louder this time, hands gripping your waist and holding you against him as he shakes behind you. You can feel him twitch inside of you as he shoots those thick, white ropes of cum into you. 

For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first. 

You were right. 

Jake buries himself as deep as he can go, only grinding back a few centimeters before pressing himself flush against you as another spurt paints the flesh inside of you. You feel so full, and he’s packed so tightly in you that you genuinely think this is the first time you’ve ever actually felt a man cum inside of you. Like really feel it. Every fucking pulse of it. 

Unfortunately, just like that, you feel empty with how fast he pulls out of you. You’re in shock, actually. 

“Where are you going?” You ask in a cracked and panicked voice, looking behind you as he backs away from you momentarily. 

“I–” He pauses, looking at you and the way your eyes look back at him in a different type of panic. “Don’t know.” He says, getting back onto the bed and reluctantly putting his arms around you in a hug.

“I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still trying to steady his breath from the orgasm he had ten seconds ago. 

Instantly, Jake found himself in a post-nut state of guilt and kind of scared of how much he adored fucking you. 

“End it?” You ask, pulling away from him. “You want to stop?”

“You don’t?” He asks, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. 

“I mean, we both know what we are doing…” You trail off, sitting yourself up and fully aware that the guilt will always hit you at random times, but still, you want Jake. “And we still kept doing it.”

“Yeah, but–” 

“But?” You ask, turning your body to face him as he sits himself up now. The nakedness of your bodies is not at all embarrassing at this moment. 

“Jake, I don’t think I can like, not want you if you still want me.”

He nods his head reluctantly, wondering if this is you offering the fact that you’re willing to straight up, blatantly, and shamelessly cheat on Sunghoon with him.

“Ugh,” Jake puts his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If we never talk about it…,”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” Jake throws his hands up defensively. “I only feel bad when you’re not here.” He says, now questioning himself. “I don’t think I’d be able to like, not ever do this again.”

“So we are both in this same little fucked up boat?” You ask. 

“I guess so.” He laughs at himself, and then at you. “If he ever finds out, you know i’ll be found in a ditch somewhere, right?”

You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Jake into a fire that you both fucking searched for is kind of…scary? But also elating?

“Well, I’m not gonna fucking tell him.” You say, pressing the important matter at hand. “The point is, Jake, I need you to understand that I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

Somehow, he lightens the mood.

“Damn, I must be special.”

You guess he is.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[beomiracles]

hiii! i’ve never requested before but as i’m stalking *tehe* your account- OMG U WRITE SO GOOD BSFR

can i request something like a cosplayer!gf x soobin? yk he’s such a weeb & a nerd, i js know he would love a cosplayer gf (not only ‘cause i do cosplay lmao). Maybe some smut-ish?

TYSMMM, i hope u take the request babes <33

⌞ 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 ⌝

DREAM RECALL Soobin knows that he should feel ashamed, but he can't help it. He wants nothing but to see his girlfriend completely ruined before him.

wc -> 2.8k

pairings soobin x cosplayer!gf warnings perv!soobin, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, overstimulation (f), dacryphilia, unprotected sex + creampie, teetering on the edge of dub-con at some points, soobin calls reader "bunny", reader wears bunny ears !

#serene adds ✎ hii omg tysm eek that makes me super happy to hear >.< I tried my best, I'm not a cosplayer myself so I might've gotten some things wrong, but I think it's such a cool thing to be able to do ! this might not be exactly what you wanted, I think I got a little carried away, I hope it's still an enjoyable read nonetheless :3

It was really no secret that Soobin liked your cosplays. How he would so often brag about his girlfriend who could transform into just about anyone. Not to mention the several times he watched you get ready with big fascinated eyes as he asked you tons of questions, or went out of his way to buy you the things you needed. So no, it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked it. Well, maybe a little, maybe he hadn’t told you just how much he really enjoyed it. 

Some of them were fine, the costumes that made him giggle, the ones that were unique and funky. But some made his breath catch in his throat as he shoved a pillow over his lap. The flimsy short dresses, the tight tops, the jewelry that dangled from your neck. Even the fluffy bunny ears you once put on made him rethink his morals. — He doesn’t know how to approach it, if he should say something, or just keep quiet. Would you be disgusted with him or would you be just as turned on? He didn’t know but the thought was slowly eating him away. 

You didn’t exactly make things easier. Always sauntering about in your revealing costumes, making his dick strain uncomfortably in his briefs as he tears his gaze away. He knows that you love what you do, catching you smiling and laughing as you edit your videos, always excited to talk about your next costume. Soobin doesn’t want to ruin something you hold so dearly just because of his perverted mind. Yet he can’t help but replay the scene in his head, over and over until his hand moves down his pants on its own. 

Short fluffy skirt bunched up over your stomach, your tits bouncing in rhythm with each harsh thrust of his as your bottom lip quivers, big bunny ears flopping down the sides of your face as your dainty nails claw at his arms. — Fuck, Soobin knows it’s bad. So why can’t he stop?    

Things get no better when you call out for him that evening, your squeaky voice echoing through the walls of your apartment. He gets up from the couch, dragging his feet over to your shared bedroom, pushing the slightly ajar door open before his eyes almost shot out of their sockets. — “Can you help me zip this up?” You whine as you struggle with the zipper of your short dress. The lacey material was just the kind that immediately got his mind reeling and Soobin fumbled for words before eventually nodding, awkwardly stumbling inside the room. 

His big hands are clumsy on your back as he twists at the locking mechanisms of your garment, his brows deeply furrowed as he tries to get it right. “M-Maybe it’s broken”, you huff, making a small grimace as he tugs at the costume. Soobin only shakes his head, “no it’ll work”, he mutters, intent on seeing you in the skimpy piece of clothing. And at last he does get it, heaving a small sigh he takes a step back as you admire yourself in the mirror. 

“Thank you, babe!” You chirp, rushing to give his cheek a small peck before setting up your phone. “Do you wanna watch?” — Your innocent question sends blood straight to his groin and he has to blink twice before comprehending your words. “I…sure”, he nods, moving to sit by the edge of the bed, securely out of view from your camera. 

You had explained multiple times how you filmed your content, lip syncing to different songs and sometimes having full on dialogues. But Soobin finds himself unable to focus on anything besides how your tits moved as you redid take after take, huffing when you got something wrong as you pulled at the colorful wig on your head. 

His eyes are glued to the way the dress slides up your thighs, frowning as your hand wraps around the fabric to pull it down again. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting uncomfortably on the plush mattress as he watches you bend forward to mess with the settings on your phone, your soft tits almost spilling out of the tight costume. — He knows that he’s done for if you turn around right now, and he swallows, fingers curling around the blanket beneath him. 

He should leave, actually he should probably have left right away, but his greedy mind just couldn’t say no. It takes everything in him to tear his gaze from you, quickly removing himself from the bed as he heads for the door, though your voice makes him freeze in his tracks. “Where are you going, Binnie?” He can practically hear the pout on your lips and he has to bite back a small groan. “Just the bathroom”, he mumbles, hoping that you won’t catch on to how strained his voice had become. 

Your obliviousness is endearing as you give a small “okay”, and the immense wave of guilt washing over him is almost unbearable. Yet his demanding arousal wins him over and as soon as the bathroom door shuts behind him does his hand slip past the hem of his sweats. — Letting his head fall back against the cool tiles, Soobin exhales as his fingers wrap around his aching cock, groaning as he tugs on it. No matter how hard he tries not to, the image of you in the room down the hall clouds his vision. 

It wasn’t like it was unwarranted, right? You were his girlfriend, so why did he feel so shameful over jacking off to the silly little costumes you wore? But the thought of confronting what he thought to be a bizarre kink, felt almost worse than jerking it off in secret. You’d probably be disgusted with him, Soobin thinks so at least. And that’s the last thing he wants. 

He takes a cold shower after that, trying his hardest to scrub away the shame and the guilt. It never worked. He feels just as hot when he steps out again, almost like he was running a fever, an incurable one. — You ask him about his sudden disappearance at dinner but he merely brushes it off. And you’re so naive, believing every single word passing his lying lips. 

Not even when he’s balls deep inside of you that night, thick cock ramming into your throbbing cunt, can he get the thoughts out of his head. His mind works overtime as it conjures image after image of you all dressed up for him, your makeup smudged by the tears that streamed down your face as he brings you to orgasm after orgasm. — Only snapping out of his haze when your whiny voice pierces the air, “B-Binnie, s’too much!” — “Fuck, sorry Bunny”, the petname slips out without him thinking twice and it isn’t until he catches your small frown that he realizes his mistake. 

“You’ve never called me that before..” You sound hesitant and Soobin stills inside of you. “Ah.. No I suppose I haven’t”, he huffs, clearing his throat rather awkwardly, “if you don’t like it I-” — “No, I do.” He blinks, unmoving as he swallows, did he hear that right? The tiny confirmation sends him spiraling and he reconnects your lips in a kiss, thinking, hoping, that maybe he’d be able to get just a step closer to what his twisted mind desired. 

⸝⸝

Sometimes it was almost like the universe liked to pull pranks on Soobin. Or maybe it was karma? It had to be one of the two, because he nearly drops his phone as you come skipping down the hallway, dressed in nothing but a fluffy skirt and a cute sparkly top. — You immediately begin rambling on about the character you’re portraying as you twirl before him, modeling the look. But Soobin isn’t listening, in fact he’s barely heard a word you’ve said, even as his gaze trains on your glossy lips. You always did your makeup nice, but today you had gone all out, pink cheeks matching the shadow around your eyes, and he could’ve sworn you used something akin to glitter on the tip of your nose. 

“Do you like it?” You wonder, twisting the flimsy skirt between your fingers as you await his response. Soobin’s eyes find yours, wide and curious meeting his lustful and near pleading ones. There’s really only one thing he can say. — “You should put the bunny ears on.” 

You frown, the confusion is evident on your pretty face as your pink lips part. “The bunny ears? But they don’t even have anything to do with this costume, silly!” — “I know.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance but the way desire swirls behind his gaze surely gives him away. You bite the inside of your cheek, appearing almost conflicted as you rock back and forth on the sole of your feet. “Binnie, don’t you think–” 

“I think”, he interrupts, shifting against the sofa before he continues, “that you should put them on and go lay down on our bed.” — Your jaw slacks as your fingers, previously tangled up in your skirt, drops to your sides, sure you were used to Soobin being commanding but this was something completely new. Then your eyes drift to the bulge in his pants, wondering how it could’ve passed your notice before, and you nod, slowly turning on your heel as you head for the bedroom. 

Soobin lets his head fall back against the couch with a soft groan. Running a hand through his hair, he slowly considers what he was about to go through with. But not before long does he get up to head after you. — The door is ajar, letting him catch a glimpse of the bed before he pushes it open. He finds you perched on the mattress, knees tucked under you as you fiddle with the fluffy ears on your head. When you see him entering you immediately make a move to lie down, visibly gulping as he reaches the bed in three long strides. 

This was far from anything the two of you had done before. You supposed that some might even call your sex life a bit vanilla. While it wasn’t something you had given much thought, Soobin most definitely seemed to have as he looms over you. — You looked so pretty, so perfectly put together, and he wanted nothing more than to see you ruined. 

His large hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the pink hues as he sends you a loving look. “Gorgeous bunny”, he murmurs, pulling your plump bottom lip down, your sticky gloss smearing all over his thumb as he pushes it inside your mouth. He’s pleasantly surprised when you eagerly swirl your tongue around it, coating his finger in your saliva. You keep your eyes on him the whole time, the small eye contact makes his cock practically jump in his pants and he retracts his thumb with a grunt. 

Eagerly he hikes the fluffy skirt up above your stomach. The cotton panties you wore underneath were nothing special, you hadn’t exactly planned for things to take such an intimate turn but Soobin’s breath still catches in his throat as his fingers trace the lining. — “So soft”, he exhales, hand dipping inside the thin garment as his long fingers slide between your folds, making you suck in a sharp breath as your teeth latch onto your painted lip. 

Driven by the fantasies conjured in his far too imaginative mind, it’s almost as if he’s taken on a completely different persona. The uncharacteristic look in his eyes makes you throb against him, his saliva coated thumb skimming over your clit, has you crying out as he quickly pushes a finger inside of your clenching hole. — He wants to ease you into it, take it slow, like he usually did, but there’s something urging him on today. Desperate to see you ruined by his hand, Soobin quickly adds a second finger, not slowing down as he hears you wail, cute nails practically ripping the sheets apart as your thighs twitch. 

His free hand tugs your panties down, leaving them by your knees as he grows impatient, his attention returning to your slick core; watching intently as your arousal trails down the back of his hand. Soobin was a gentle lover, he loved taking his time as he watches your face morph into pleasurable expressions, he loved hearing your small gasps and moans as he slides himself inside of you before gently picking up his pace. But none of that lingers today.  

Neither the shame nor bashfulness exists within him any longer. He can’t bring himself to care when you look so pretty beneath him, whimpering as you orgasm around his fingers, his name falling from your lips like it was second nature. — “N-No s’too much!” You whine as his fingers continue to spread your puffy folds, but Soobin’s too far gone already. “S’okay bunny, I’m gonna make you feel so good”, he murmurs, planting a tender kiss to your forehead and you preen under him. 

Sweat has dribbled down your face, causing your makeup to crease but Soobin only groans at the sight, his large hand feverishly working to free his throbbing cock from the confinement of his pants. — Your quiet cry when his tip meets your clit makes his chest swell as he lets himself become coated in the remnants of your previous high. “Binnie”, the nickname makes him twitch as his gaze flickers up to meet yours. Your bottom lip wobbles, short pants emitting from deep within your throat and your eyes are wide. Fuck you look gorgeous.

Soobin thinks he might come the second he slips past your wet folds, your overstimulated cunt sucking him in like never before and you whimper at the stretch of his thick cock. He starts out slow, like he usually did, though his restraints quickly snap as his pace becomes near unbearable. His eyes focus on the way your tits move with each thrust, their rhythmical bounce as they strain against the sparkly top makes him groan as he increases his force. — He traps one of your floppy bunny ears between his fingers, feeling the soft material against his open palm before he tugs on it, making you whine as your back arches off the mattress. 

“Prettiest little bunny I’ve ever seen”, he grunts, his hips slamming against yours with such force that you let out a small hiccup. Your hands move to his shoulders, pretty nails digging into the flesh there as you meekly nod, jaw slacking as you blink up at him. — His thumb is on your lips again, except this time he’s smearing your pink gloss across your cheek and chin, wanting you to look nothing but ravaged when he’s done with you. 

He can tell that you’re having a hard time keeping up, the tears welling in your eyes a clear indicator. “S-Slow down, Binnie!” You sniffle, your grip on his upper arms becoming near deadly. And any other day he would’ve complied in a heartbeat, scooping you into his arms as he coddled you, but he needs to see you ruined, he can’t stop now. — The first droplet to fall from your eyes makes him let out a strangled noise as his cock twitches deep inside of you. The ones that follow manage to smear your perfect makeup, leaving streaks on your pink tinted cheeks. 

Your quiet sobs are interrupted by breathy moans as his index and middle finger swirls around your throbbing clit. “Hnng, I’m g-gonna.. p-please let me..” Your incoherent pleas only make his mind spin, adding to the sensation of having you completely wrecked before him. His large palm against your tear stained cheek is near trembling as he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “S’okay bunny, I’ve got you.” He presses reassuring pecks to your face, covering you in his love as he feels you clench around him, pulling a sharp hiss between his gritted teeth as you finish around his cock. 

Once the wave of intense pleasure subsides you’re left a whimpering mess as Soobin abuses your spent cunt, using it however he pleases as he thrusts into you without showing any signs of slowing down. — You looked so perfect like this, your once pretty costume completely disheveled all thanks to him. Your mind is nothing but a hazy fog as you gaze up at him, letting him have his way with you because you’re nothing but a dumb bunny, his dumb bunny. 

He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck as his hips stutter, making sure to fill your pretty little cunt with as much of his seed as possible, preserving it by slowly fucking his soft cock into you despite your wails. — “You’re okay”, he murmurs, pressing tender kisses to your sweat covered neck as he slumps against your chest. “So perfect for me”, he sighs as he leans up to catch a glimpse of your face. He finds a small grin playing on your lips, making his heart flutter almost agonizingly as he props himself up to place a kiss to that very smile.

Such a perfectly dumb bunny, he thinks.  

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[formulawolff]

vi. morning confessional - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.5k

warnings: i typed this entire chapter on my phone while i was at work, so if there are any spelling errors, oopsies! cursing, age gaps, power imbalances, yearning, tons of yearning, oral (f! receiving), mentions of sex, teasing, slight praise kink, slight size kink, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, causing you to stir. scrunching your nose, a yawn takes hold. at the action, his arms instinctively pull you in closer, smothering your face in his chest.

“good morning.”

“good morning beautiful girl,” his voice is thick with sleep, and oh so sexy, “how did you sleep?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“better than usual.”

“me too,” soft lips connect with your temple, “what time is it?”

yawning once more, you roll over, plucking your phone off the nightstand.

“8:38 a.m.”

“shit.”

“somewhere to be?”

“yes,” the team principal groans, rubbing his eyes, “unfortunately i am running very late for it. i’ll just let my assistant know i can’t make it.”

“oops,” you shrug, collapsing back into his arms, “why can’t you just stay every night?”

“you know why, schatzi,” he murmurs, squeezing you, “this is going to be a long two weeks.”

“awww,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “is someone going to miss me?”

“you have no idea.”

“we’ll be in japan. that will surely be exciting,” you begin to run your hand through his hair, melting as his lashes flutter.

“and you know what comes after japan.”

“miami,” you suck in a breath, “that still gives me some time to consider everything.”

“just don’t overthink it,” one eye opens, “if you overdo it, you’ll start to reconsider every little thing.”

“i know,” you exhale, “it’s just overwhelming. i don’t like disappointing people either.”

“oh i know,” toto leans in, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “you tend to put on this facade that you’re selfish, doing things only for your gain. however, i have learned that deep down, you’re a huge people pleaser. that’s why you’ve been dragging your feet in giving me your answer. you don’t want hurt james. you don’t want to disappoint the team. most of all, you don’t want to face the backlash that will follow.”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up in your eyes. they threaten to spill over, and his brows furrow, “oh schatzi, i didn’t mean to hurt your—“

“no,” you sniffle, “i just hate that you’re right.”

“you don’t have to spend your life pleasing others, you know,” his arms engulf you in an embrace, rubbing circles on your back as you weep into his chest, “you’re allowed to make decisions for yourself. you need to do what you feel is best.”

“but there’s just one thing that i can’t shake,” the words are barely coherent, but he hears them anyway.

“and that is?” he inquires, kneading into your shoulder blades.

“i want to be with you at mercedes. i’m just scared that if something happens between us, i’ll regret my decision.”

“us?”

your eyes snap open, panic settling in, “i-i, um, i — i didn’t mean anything by that, i just—“

“you want an us?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“i-i mean,” your voice falters, “isn’t it inevitably going to happen if we keep seeing one another? one of us is going to develop feelings and we’re going to—“

lips crash into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs. it’s a passionate kiss, needy and brimmed with hunger. fingers tangle in your hair, tugging at the roots as you whimper, his tongue licking along your lower lip. he sucks on it, the hand on your back delving lower and lower, gripping the curve of your ass.

a noise rumbles in the base of this throat as you suck on his tongue, the kisses growing sloppier and messier by the second. the noise is guttural, almost like a growl.

he pulls away momentarily, panting slightly, “who is to say that the feelings aren’t already there?”

“toto you don’t—“

“i do,” shifting his weight, he pins you to the bed, “like i said, i didn’t have a crush. i can’t stop thinking about you. every single time i think about racing, or my drivers, or even mercedes in general, my thoughts wander to you.”

as he takes you in, you can’t help but gaze into his eyes, your hand reaching out. fingers brush his cheek tenderly, tracing the lines that scoured his face. his lashes flutter at your touch, his chest heaving as your fingertips wander, memorizing every minuscule detail.

your fingertips land on his lips, “i just need to know one thing.”

“what is it, love?”

“this offer, signing me as a driver to mercedes. is it business or is it personal?” preparing for the worst, you feel yourself instinctively shy away.

yet, he isn’t fazed, maintaining eye contact, “do you want my honest answer?”

“of course i do.”

“personal. completely personal,” there’s a glint in his mocha depths, an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“ever since i saw that photo of you, signing that contract with williams, i knew i wouldn’t be able to resist you. i tried, i really tried to maintain my distance. to stay away. but i can’t. there’s something about you that draws me in. i don’t quite know what, but i know that i need you by my side. at mercedes, where i can make you a world champion. my world champion. i would make my golden girl a world champion.”

“toto,” you begin, but he continues, pressing a finger to your mouth.

“yes, it would be good for mercedes to sign on a driver with your talent. our reputation would benefit. you have the qualities of a mercedes driver. but this isn’t about business. this is personal. it always has been. it always will be.”

“i-i,” you stutter, the temperature of the room elevated as toto’s mouth inches closer and closer to yours, “i don’t know—“

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” his voice is low and thready, consumed with desire, “i know it’s a lot. there’s a lot to consider and a lot at stake. but for now, just focus on me. can you do that for me baby?”

nodding meekly, anticipation takes a hold as he lowers his head, mouth connecting with your heated skin. the kisses travel further and further down, his hands finding yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“so beautiful,” he whispers, “so, so, so breathtaking.”

“so are you—“

a moan fills the space as his mouth envelops your clit through your panties. he groans at your reaction, knuckles turning white as you squirm, gripping your hands tightly.

“take them off, please.”

“so you do beg,” he taunts, his breath hot as it fans against your inner thighs, “what do you need again, schatzi?”

“i need you,” you whimper, dripping with desire, “i need you, toto wolff.”

“i’ll take care of you baby,” his pupils are dilated, blush tinging his cheeks, “just relax, and let me take care of you.”

at the sight of you beneath him, aching for his touch, toto nearly unravels.

was he dreaming? or was this heaven?

god, you were so fucking beautiful like this. all needy and desperate. between your thighs, he couldn’t help but notice the wet spot pooling in your panties. goosebumps riddled your arms and legs, yet your skin was so soft and warm.

you were practically inviting him in.

and how could he resist?

“is this okay?” the team principal tugs on the hem of your panties.

“yes,” the corners of his lips curl into a smirk at your quick response, “please, toto.”

dragging the fabric down your legs, he relishes how they glow in the morning light.

every part of you was so beautiful. every. single. part.

“open your legs,” strong hands grasp your thighs, the command sending a shiver down your spine, “i need to see that perfect pussy.”

you can’t help but obey, shielding your face instinctively as he situates himself, mouth merely centimeters from your drenched pussy.

if your body was an altar, toto was prepared to worship, savoring and praising every inch of you until there was nothing left.

“don’t hide,” he tuts, “i want you to watch.”

“but—“

a hand, your hand, covers your mouth as his tongue delves between your folds, your back arching. fingertips dig into your hips, holding you in place.

toto was a starving man. and fuck, did you taste so fucking good.

he couldn’t get enough, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue explores every inch of you. his tongue applies pressure to your clit as he sucks lightly, swirling in circles as you buck your hips.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

toto didn’t have to ask if you were close. he could sense it, the way your muscles were beginning to tense up. the way your hips rocked back and forth, practically riding his tongue. the way your voice was growing louder and louder, yearning for more and more.

already this close and he had barely even started?

fuck, was he going to have fun with you.

“toto,” there it was again, his name from your lips, “toto, i’m going to — you’re going to make me cum.”

“you deserve it,” he pulls away, mouth and chin glistening, “you deserve it baby. cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the words coax you to the edge, and you feel a finger wedge its way into your tight hole, your walls stretch, adjusting to the size of his finger. just as you get used to one, he shoves another inside, pumping them in and out, curling once they’re inside.

the euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave as his mouth plants kisses over your clit, practically making out with your pussy. you feel your walls close in, the pleasure wound up tightly in your lower abdomen.

“toto,” you’re almost breathless, “i-i’m going to cum.”

moans flood toto’s ears as you orgasm, your thighs squeezing against his ears. your muscles twitch and shudder, juices dribbling down his chin.

pressing one last kiss to your pussy, he catches his breath, wiping his chin.

before you know it, two fingers are pressed against your lips, “taste yourself.”

opening wide, your tongue dances along the digits, licking them clean. toto watches in awe, a fiery hunger burning within.

it took every fiber of his being not to just spread you open again, filling you up, claiming you.

claiming what was rightfully his.

“oh my god,” you exhale, scrambling to muster a single coherent thought, “that was—“

“you’ll get more.”

your back meets with the mattress once again, hands on your head, “holy shit.”

“never had a man make you cum like that before?” you want to slap the smug smirk off his face.

but you stop yourself, feeling a frown form as he plucks his clothes off of the floor, shoving his legs into his slacks.

“leaving so soon?”

“i have to go,” relief ripples from your head to your toes as you sense his disappointment. he was just as upset to go, “i want to stay baby, but i have about sixty-two missed calls and seventy texts. they’re wondering where i am and i need to get going.”

“that’s all right,” reaching for own phone, you wonder if you were in a similar predicament.

you couldn’t quite remember, but you were sure you had missed a few meetings. one of them was more than likely with the press. one was probably a team meeting before the next destination.

“what’s going to be your excuse?”

toto pauses momentarily, leaning over to give you a swift peck, “the answer is simple. they won’t get one. they don’t need to know where i was.”

“someone’s grumpy,” you giggle as you notice the prominent frown.

“yeah i am.”

“and why’s that?” you arch a brow.

“because i want to fuck the shit out of you,” the casual delivery has you reeling, your heart fluttering as he shoves his arms into his dress shirt.

“i want to watch you cum again and again and again. but i can’t. i have to go about my day as if i didn’t just taste pure ambrosia on my tongue. i have to sit there and answer phone calls, emails, my team, and act like nothing ever happened.”

“is it hard for you?”

“of course it’s hard,” toto runs a hand through his hair, and you pick out the tightness of his jaw as he speaks, “i want to tell someone. i want to tell someone how the most beautiful woman in the world has me wrapped around her finger. how i’m putty in her hands. but i can’t.”

“toto, i—“

“i hate to interrupt you,” he crosses over to the bed once again, scooping you up in his embrace, “but i really have to go. i’ll text you, okay? maybe we can rendezvous at some point in these next few weeks. i’ll fly you out. you wouldn’t have to pay a single penny.”

“okay,” you nod, inhaling his scent one last time, attempting to memorize the way his arms feel around your frame. it was far too quick, toto pulling away, tousling your hair.

“be a good girl for me. i’ll see you soon.”

“i’ll see you soon, toto.”

and just like that, he was gone.

biting your lip, you curl up on the mattress, throwing the comforter over your body.

you shouldn’t cry. not over this.

but why did you feel that urge? why was it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus on anything other than the team principal?

yeah, you had a crush on him. that was years ago, when you were a teenager. that was innocent, a young girl swooning over a man nearly three times her age.

now, that crush was developing into something much more. something far more complex that you could have ever imagined.

you were falling head over heels for toto wolff, whether you liked it or not.

and you couldn’t fight it, no matter how hard you tried to push those feelings away. you had tried to seal them away in a box, throwing out the key.

somehow toto had found that damn key.

he was the key, really.

and who knew what would happen if you opened the lid to that box.

however, there were far more pressing matters.

picking up your phone, you scroll through your messages, notifications, and emails.

there was nothing too crazy you missed, just a quick debrief before you all left for home for the next week or so.

although, one particular text caught your eye.

it was james, sent about fifteen minutes ago.

good morning, american girl! i’m not sure if you’re aware, but the fia has made their decision concerning your tussle with george. it’s not good, but it’s not bad either. i figured you were probably not feeling up to the team meeting since you got pretty banged up from the crash. get some rest, then give me a call when you can.

also, is there a reason why toto wolff approached me yesterday? he was asking about your contract. do you have any idea what that was about?

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010

let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[daycourtofficial]

Love Potion No. 9

Summary: Azriel returns from a mission and can’t seem to keep his hands off of you.

Author’s note: happy halloween! I thought a fun love potion theme would be so cute and fun!

(Part 2)

Can you come into Azriel’s room?

Rhysand’s request permeates your thoughts. You rise from your spot on the couch, placing a marker in the book you’re halfway through. You pad down the hallway, passing Mor, who gives you a soft smile.

You reach Azriel’s door, knocking softly before letting yourself in. You walk over to Azriel, who’s sitting on his bed with Cassian and Rhys standing facing him.

Rhys made these visits mandatory after Azriel went on three back to back missions and no one realized he hadn’t slept for 6 days until he winnowed in the dining room instead of his room, crashing on the table. Since that happened, Rhys has been making you, their healer, check on everyone post mission.

“Hi Az,” you say, stepping up to him.

“Sweetheart! Hi!” He says, putting his arms around you, enveloping you immediately.

You give Cassian a confused look. The two of you were exceptionally flirty and spent all of your time together, but Azriel was only this touchy when on the rare occasion he allowed himself to get drunk. He especially was never this touchy in front of his brothers.

You wrap your arms around him as he tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder. “Can I check you out, look you over?”

“Baby, you can do much more than that.”

Your cheeks heat immediately, but you don’t address it. You assess him for injuries, which you found none. As you’re assessing, he keeps his hands in a loose circle around your waist, trying to touch as much of you as he can while you’re working.

“Okay, Azriel, I didn’t find any injuries, are you in any pain?”

“I was, actually, in a lot of pain earlier.”

You stop, holding hand as you ask, “what happened?”

He looks down at his feet, thinking about whatever had caused his pain, as he says, “we were apart for several days.”

You roll your eyes, unsure of what has brought this on from him.

“Can you follow my fingers with your eyes?”

You hold up your pointer finger from each hand, holding them in front of his face, as you begin moving your left hand in the left direction. He does as you ask, following your hand, but as you start moving your fingers, you feel his hands slither down to cup your ass.

You hear Cassian try not to laugh.

“Did you ingest anything that you didn’t pack while you were gone?”

He sighs dreamily, “the only thing I want to put my mouth on is you.”

Your jaw drops, but Azriel doesn’t notice. He just starts playing with the ends of your hair, muttering about pretty your hair is when it’s loose.

“Did you have any problems winnowing?” You ask, trying desperately to keep this professional and to get through this check up. You half forgot that Cassian and Rhys are still here, if it weren’t for the occasional giggles from them.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. He rests his hands on your waist, not looking away from your face. “Just thought of home, and you showed up. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” He states, winking very over dramatically at you.

You see his canteen, and ask, “may I?”

“Everything I have is yours, sweets.”

Cassian’s snort escapes without his permission.

You grab his canteen of water, screwing off the cap and sniffing it.

“Can I see you two out in the hallway?” At the mention of leaving him, Azriel pouts, his hands tightening around your waist. He starts to speak, but you cut him off, “I promise I’ll be right back.”

That response somewhat appeases him, and after Azriel untangles himself from you, not without a ton of huffs from him, the three of you step out into the hallway. You extend Azriel’s canteen with the lid screwed off out to them. “Smell this, what do you smell?”

Cassian takes a whiff, as does Rhysand.

“It smells like the air in the clouds, like,” Rhys takes another sniff, “like the soap Feyre loves. And clean sheets.”

Cassian smells it, “it smells like strawberries and sex.”

You chuckle before starting, “this is a love potion. Someone has drugged our shadowsinger.”

“But he was fine until he saw you - wouldn’t a love potion make him fall in love with who he saw first?” Cassian gasps, “I saw him first! It should be me,” almost offended Azriel wasn’t hanging off of him like he was you.

You laugh, “no, Cass. Love potions can have a certain person in mind, but you have to be an incredibly talented potionmaster to brew such a concoction.” You blush a little before continuing, “most love potions can only exacerbate feelings that are already there. Hence why I had you two smell it - it smells differently to you two. If it was brewed for a certain person, it would smell like them.”

Rhys looks at you, a mischievous grin showing on his lips, “you didn’t tell us what you smell.”

Your blush deepened even further, “it smells like books,” you sigh, looking at your feet, “and like Azriel’s cologne, which is why I couldn’t smell it on him and asked you two to smell it.”

Cassian wolf whistles and you hit his arm, “shut up.”

“Should we be worried? How long will the potion last?” Rhys asks, changing the topic for a moment.

“They usually only last for 12 hours. Supposedly it is all encompassing. I’ve never seen anyone take it before, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

The two brothers look at each other and grin. “Oh no, poor Az. Being looked after by our beautiful healer for twelve uninterrupted hours. However will he cope?” Rhys’s signature smirk stretching his face.

“Rhysand, if you’re insinuating I’d ever take advantage of a patient under the influence of a love potion, you’d be gravely mistaken.”

“Well, I didn’t see you exactly prying his hands off your ass, now did I?”

Cassian mutters under his breath, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re concerned they might actually get stuck. The two bats turn to leave, deciding they’ve teased you enough for now. Cassian turns around, making kissing noises at you as they disappear down the hall.

When Rhys and Cass are out of earshot, Cassian tells his high lord, “you owe me 50 gold marks.”

Rhys scoffs, “you owe me 100 gold marks for the love potion.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, “call it even?”

[ggyuha]

good cop, bad cop / leon

[ summary ] : you lost your belongings after a party—of course you’d need help but seeing how the officer is so handsome, maybe he can help you in more ways than one? ( wc is 3.6k words )

[ c/w ] : dom!leon x afab!reader, handjob, fingering, unprotected piv, car sex, degradation, pet names, age gap (reader is in college, leon is in early/mid 20s), …

[ note ] : he isn’t acting like a cutie patootie re2r leon bc it’s mostly self-indulgent but enjoy my filthy leon brain rot anyways & ik it’s p long but i love porn w plots ><

having partying all night, it was inevitable to lose something in the process—the something, in your case, was your purse. of course, how cliché.

it had your money, cards and phone in it and hell if you can survive without your phone.

with sore feet and tired heels, you made your way to the nearest police station. it was almost empty, save for a couple of bored-looking officers. they were all buried in paperworks except for one—damn was he a sight for sore eyes.

he had blond hair which was parted in a curtain-ish type of bangs. his eyes were icy blue, the type to bore holes in someone when they stare too hard. his nose was long and tall, it sat perfectly in the middle of his pretty face. his lips were plump and red, so kissable but save that for later, you thought. it’s your purse over this handsome cop.

he walked up to you with a smile on his lips, his puppy eyes looking brightly at you. “hello, is there anything i can help you with?” he asked gently. you saw the way his eyes roamed over your body, up and down, checking you out. you straightened your back, feeling a sense of pride to have such an attractive man gaze at you that way. who wouldn’t, to be honest? with the way your tight black dress hugged your curves perfectly, the way the hem showed a generous amount of your thighs. you sure are a looker.

“yes, please,” you said in the softest way possible, his eyes flicking back up to match your stare. “my purse was stolen and… and i have to get home. is it possible to borrow a phone?”

he raised his brows. a phone? you’d borrow a phone instead of asking for a lift back home. he was disappointed but intentionally gave you his personal phone instead of his work phone. “here, sweetheart.” he just couldn’t hold that one back. he had a thing for pet names and he sure as shit can’t help himself but call you nicknames.

you blinked a few times, flustered with the pet name but you took the phone from his hand and dialled your friend’s number. it took him a few rings. “hello, chris?” chris was your older brother’s best friend. he’s nice and understanding, he acts more brotherly than your own brother so you didn’t hesitate to punch his number in the keypad.

“yes?” he mumbled groggily. you felt a little guilty, disturbing him this late at night but you had to suck it up or you wouldn’t get home. “uhm, i’m in a police station. i lost my purse. can you come and get me?” there was silence for a few seconds before you heard a loud sigh. he said your name, asking to confirm if it was you.

but of course, it was you. who else would cause trouble only to bother him afterwards, right?

“yes, it’s me.”

you heard a low grunt—fuck, you thought. “i can’t, i’m sorry… i’m s’posed to watch my lil’ cousin for the whole night and my uncle used the car.” your lower lip caught in between your teeth. “i see,” you replied in a steady tone, careful not to sound disappointed because you knew chris would feel even more guilty, if he wasn’t feeling that now, which you sure as shit he is.

“it’s okay, chris. thanks anyway. there are tons of officers here,” you said, eyeing the said officers, which you can count with the fingers of a hand. you couldn’t tell chris the truth though.

“maybe i can ask for a lift.” leon’s ears perked up and he fought hard to hold back a grin.

chris hummed on the other end of the line. “i’ll come by tomorrow to check on you, is that good?” he knew your parents are on a business trip and your brother is, most probably, not home. you nodded, slightly forgetting he won’t see. “yes, thanks.”

you handed the officer’s phone back to him. “i can give you a ride.” leon offered with a small smirk. you shivered slightly under his piercing gaze. you could feel the palpable tension between you two and god, was it wrong. you were barely done with college—how old are you? eighteen? nineteen? fuck, it was so wrong but it felt so right.

curious as you were about his age, you refrained from asking.

“okay,” you said, “sorry, i didn’t catch your name.” you looked up at him with doe eyes. you sure knew how to use your charms, he thought. you were worming your way into his head. he was beginning to imagine things—said things being him thrusting his hips, ramming into you roughly—but he isn’t telling you that. yet.

“leon kennedy, but it’s just leon for you.” he gave you a wink before walking past you, gesturing for you to follow him. “i’m almost done with my shift anyway. can you wait for 10 minutes, sweetie?” he glanced back at you over his shoulders, “let me just hand in my paperworks and clock out, yeah?” it took you a few to process his words, his voice calling you sweetie ringing in your head.

“sure,” you answered, “i’ll wait—“ you eyed the lounge and sat on one of the chair, “—here.” he chuckled before walking away to go to his desk, organising piles of paperworks. he grabbed two handfuls of those papers and put them in drawers. the rest of the stack, he grabbed and he walked into an office, probably to hand it in.

he went out after minutes and he arranged his desk. an organised man, you thought, that’s so fucking hot.

he grabbed his backpack and slung it over one shoulder as he walked towards you. “i clocked out. ready to get home?” he smiled sweetly at you. you nodded and stood up, walking behind him.

you were surprised when he got in his car. like, his personal car. you guess it made sense since he already got off work but still. you thought he’d use the police car.

okay, chill, it isn’t even that big of a deal.

you climbed into his passenger seat. “took your sweet time, didn’t you?” he joked as he ignited the engine. you scratched your cheek. “sorry.”

he chuckled at your apology. “i was just kidding.” you shot him a brief glance and threw him a smile. damn did that do something to him.

he began driving, asking you for directions. it didn’t take that long before you reached your home. “this is it,” you said, pointing at the house outside the passenger window. he looked your way, his eyes drifting back to you after he eyed your house. it wasn’t that big but it still was a statement of your family’s wealth.

“thanks for driving me home. even after your shift ended too…” his hand moved from the shift stick to your knee, his eyes remained on yours, looking at you with a glint and you could swear that you could see through him. “it’s not a problem, princess. don’t mention it.” a corner of his lips curved up in a sly smirk. oh, was he a handsome devil—which was ironic since he’s in the force, doing good.

you bit your lip, holding back to gaze at his hand on your knee. it was burning your skin but you were so fucking aching for his hands to burn more than just your knee.

you hummed a response. “alright, leon.” despite knowing that you’re supposed to get out of the car, because the ride is done, you couldn’t move an inch, holding onto his meaningful stare while he killed the engine. “what?” you huffed out silently. his mouth is still curved up in a smirk and his eyes watched you hungrily, almost as if this whole interaction is a bit too entertaining for him.

what the fuck is behind those eyes?

“maybe next time,” he leaned in closer and your breath caught in your throat, “don’t party too hard, yeah?” his breath fanned your cheek. “or do. then maybe i’ll see you around again.” you gasped inaudibly then bit your lip. “you’re not getting your message across, officer kennedy.” you raised a brow at him. “are you telling me to run wild or not?”

leon grinned at your question. he liked this side of you; bold, confident. you’re a minx and you know it.

“i don’t care,” said leon in a low tone. god, did it sound so sexy, so illegally. “i guess i’m saying, do what you will in life but i wanna see you again.”

your eyes widened a bit and it broke free, that sly smile you’ve been holding back for too long. he thinks he has you in his grasp but no, you have him in your grasp.

men are that easy. for you, that is. play dumb, play innocent—or don’t—it doesn’t matter, actually. just look tempting and they eat everything up.

“i’m still a student, officer,” you finally tell him. he doesn’t show a hint of surprise, almost as if he knew. he looked away and pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully now but it’s quite too late for that, isn’t it?

“but you don’t really care, do you?” you added in a sultry tone. his eyes flicked back to you, reflecting sinful emotions—and you could almost see what kind of thoughts danced in his head, how lewd and how fucking hot those thoughts were.

his lips curved up in a smile but he tried to hide it as he rested his elbow on the steering wheel and put a hand on his lower face, the back of it pressed against his mouth.

“you don’t know that,” said leon in a whisper. your finger traced patterns on the back of his hand that’s still on your knee. you saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat. “oh, but i do.” you grabbed his hand and yanked it so you could pull him closer to you again. his eyes widened, caught off guard.

you were having so much fun. he always seemed collected. all throughout the evening, he was flirting but now, he was at your mercy. fuck those pretty eyes of yours or those damned wet lips. he’d do anything to touch you—and you could feel yourself wanting the same thing.

you clutched the collar of his shirt with one hand, your other hand ran through his ash blond hair. “i know what you’ve been thinking the entire time. trust me, officer kennedy, i’ve seen those eyes before.”

his face contorted to that of jealousy. so you’ve been through this before? you’ve seduced other men? and god so help him—you’ve fucked other men?

you watched as his eyes glinted in envy and he looked so dangerous, so tantalising. you bit the tip of your tongue inside your mouth, your gaze dropping to his lips tugged in a frown.

he grunted, feeling the tension increase. “fuck this,” he murmured and gripped your arm tightly. you winced in pain but looked up at him with a smile. “i’ll fuck you better.”

your mouth dropped open in surprise, his words catching you off guard a bit. apparently, he took this action for something else, as an invitation, and he leaned forward, crashing his lips with yours in a rough and wet kiss.

you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t your goal, not where you wanted to end up in, because it so fucking is.

your hands kept on clutching his shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with much fervour. he groaned into the kiss, sending waves of pleasure. really, damn this man to hell but he’s such a fucking good kisser.

he nibbled at your lower lip, biting it and licking it all while interlocking with it. he bit harder this time and you gasped. he eased the pain by licking it and then pushed his tongue in your mouth, swirling and dancing with yours.

he pulled away, but you knew he only did to let you breathe because he would fucking drown you with his kisses if he could.

“damn…” you were panting heavily. your heart was pounding so erratically, you thought it was possible to suffer from a heart attack. you looked at him through your eyelids. “what do you think?” he asked, caressing your cheek with his hand. “i kissed you better, didn’t i?”

you rolled your eyes and frowned at his question. what a jealous bastard! “huh,” you scoffed, “are you making out with me to heal your ego? are you seriously competing with other men you don’t even know?” you raised your brows at him.

“no, no, no, princess—you don’t get it. i have to make sure i do you better so next time, you come back to me and not them.”

without waiting for your response, he gripped your waist tightly to lift you up, guiding you to him. he adjusted the driver’s seat, pushing it back to give you enough space to straddle his lap. you huffed out shakily, the new position heightening your desire. you gripped his shoulders.

“oh, so there’s a next time?” you raised a brow at him and he just gave a smug sneer. “‘course. i’m not an idiot. why would i make you be a one time thing? you’re too pretty for that.” you rolled your eyes at him but secretly flattered he finds you attractive enough to want you more than a one-night stand.

he just chuckled at your reaction then his hands gripped your hips firmly and crashed his lips with yours once more before trailing down to your jaw and neck, nipping on your skin at every opportunity, leaving hickeys.

you tilted your head, giving him more access to your neck, your fingers entwined with his soft hair, combing and gripping them to spur him to keep going.

his hands gave your hips a gentle squeeze before sliding upwards to fondle your tits through your tight dress. you gasped and he chuckled against your skin. he pulled your neckline down, revealing your round breasts and erect nipples. he cupped them with his big hands, pinching and pulling on your buds with his long fingers.

“shit…” you murmured, tipping your head backwards as you fought back a moan. his hands are so filthy but you bet you haven’t even seen the half of it.

he pushed you gently, your back resting against the steering wheel. you watched him hike the hem of your dress up to your waist and palmed your mound without a word. you yelped, feeling him trace a finger along your slit through your panties. he could feel just how wet you already are and that elicited a throaty growl from him.

“messy little girl,” he whispered as he pushed your panties aside, gathering some of your slick with the tip of his fingers before rubbing your throbbing clit, working in circles. you let out a nasty mewl, your hand flying to your mouth and clamp it shut—which didn’t help at all because once he found the perfect rhythm to work on your clit, rolls of whimper and moans escaped your lips.

“so vocal, aren’t you? don’t hold back, i want to hear it.” hesitantly, you removed your hand from your mouth, putting two of them on his shoulders instead. “leoooon…” you moaned when he pushed two thick digits past your slick folds, the heel of his palm bumping against your nub every time he pumped in and out. once you’re adjusted to his fingers, he began curling them and with how long his fingers are, the tip of them reached spots you normally couldn’t on your own.

“this the spot?” he asked teasingly, sliding his fingers in and out then curled them to press on your g-spots. he kept his ministrations, only picking up the pace but doing it at the same intensity.

you were mush at this point, the steering wheel being the only thing keeping you sitting up because if you weren’t leaning, you sure as hell would be falling back with the way he’s doing your body.

“your tight pussy is just as vocal as you. how cute.” you grunted at his words, feeling your walls clench around his fingers. he was right though. every time he thrusted those damn fingers in you, filthy squelching filled the car.

“i’m close, please…”

he looked up at you and smiled, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear then leaned forward to kiss your lips briefly. “go on then, cum on my fingers, baby.” a couple more thrusts of his fingers and your hips began to rhythmically spasm, riding your orgasm while he continued to slowly stroke your spongy walls, your cum coating his fingers.

he pulled out, his tongue swirling around his cum-coated digits and licked them clean down to his knuckles. “delicious little thing, aren’t ya,” he said as he unbuckled his pants, his other hand grabbing your wrist to guide your hands and palm his fully erect cock.

your eyes widened and you exhaled, your fingers barely wrapping around his length. your thumb swiped on the precum gathering on his tip and he shakily sighed, throwing his head back on his seat’s headrest, watching you with half-lidded eyes.

you lazily stroked him. honestly, you didn’t have enough energy for this. you just want him inside you and all this teasing—it’s only making you impatient. “hmp,” his brow twitched slightly and glared at you, “brat. i know as hell this isn’t how you give handjobs.” he grabbed your wrist and pushed it up and down to stroke his throbbing cock harder. “what’s the matter? can’t wait ‘til my cock’s inside you?” he smirked and despite wanting to deny his accusation, you just whined instead and watched him use your hand as a fleshlight.

“shit, hold on, baby.” his hips were bucking up in rhythm with your hand, fucking your fist with urgency. with a throaty moan, his cock twitched before ropes of cum spilled on your hand and some on your stomach. you thought about how good it’d feel to have this hot and sticky thing stuffed in you.

he panted heavily but he was clearly still hard. he hasn’t had enough, for sure. he grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your pussy is hovering above his cock then you slowly sank down, your head tipping back as you felt just how much he’s stretching your tight walls—fuck, he’s so big.

his fat tip effortlessly hit your cervix just by being balls deep inside you. you groaned and impatiently squirmed on his lap. “wait up, you slut,” he grunted before firmly holding your hips to help you ride his dick. he rammed inside you relentlessly, repeatedly hitting all your spots with his curves and length. series of moans spilled from your swollen lips. your hands found your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples which heightened your stimulation.

“filthy girl,” he spat but watched you play with yourself while he used your tight cunt like an expensive cocksleeve. “shit shit shit…” you breathlessly whimpered, “not that spot, not that spot—“ liar, that’s what you are because he is thrusting in such a good spot but if he keeps hitting that… “jesus, did you just cum?” he furrowed his brows and stared at the creamy white coating the base of his dick. “oh, that’s good, fuck you’re so tight…” he seemed to be reprimanding you for cumming first but he couldn’t help and enjoy the way you’re just so fucking tight, clamping down around his thick length after your release.

he kept pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you, pumping his cock in you and stuffing your womb with his thick cum as if he’s planning on giving you his kids.

you don’t know how or when it happened, that you’re in your house, on your bed. both of you are fully naked now while he rammed into you like a hungry man, his hands pressing on the back of your thigh ‘til they’re levelled with your ears. “leon, oh god, i’m…!” your walls clenched around him again, pussy twitching and hips spasming though you’re tired from cumming over and over again around his cock. he just kept spilling his load into you.

“shit, baby, can’t get enough of this pussy.” he pulled out and watched his cum ooze out of your puffy lips. you caught a glimpse of the sunrise from outside your window and series of doorbells echoed in your home, followed by chris’ voice. fuck.

he called your name but leon just raised his brows at you before flipping your limp body, spanking your ass to lift them up properly. you whined and did as he wanted, presenting yourself to him while your face is pressed on a pillow, muffling your moans and cries as he fucked you roughly for the nth time since last night.

“shh, princess. we gotta pretend nobody’s home, don’t we?” he whispered from behind, leaning forward to press soothing kisses on your shoulder blade as filthy sounds of skin slapping skin and wet squelching while he rammed mindlessly his cock in you filled your bedroom. “wouldn’t want your friend to catch us like this after all.”

“mhm, shit…” he murmured as his hips picked up pace, swinging more sloppily and with more urgency before spilling another load of thick cum in you. jesus, is he ever gonna stop cumming at all?

“pretty girl, takin’ me so well. what’s another one more, yeah?”

[inmyicyworld]

Firewood

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Words count: 4.8k

Warnings: lumberjack bucky is the biggest warning tbh, SMUT, protected sex, size and praise kink, he has a big dick obviously, dirty talk, a lot of pet names.

Author’s note: enjoy🩷

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red Henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you whipped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be pretty dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave the men starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, doll... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a blue Henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll destroy any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? I'm not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch16

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, so much goddamn smut like I need help, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Fangs that secrete enough venom to paralyze whomever I bite, could be useful but also disgusting to get close to others. Hm, no change to body from producing said venom. Fascinating."

It had been two days since the incident. Miguel had reassured you that he was fine, but then proceeded to lock himself in his own lab to run tests on himself.

"Talons on both hands and feet, allowing me to climb walls. Not the exact same way as (Y/N), this is far more violent since my talons could be used as weapons."

Miguel slashed against his desk.

"Wood nor metal can stop me. Not to mention, physical body mass has increased. Height increased, muscles strengthen and-"

Miguel stopped as he looked down. Withholding a chuckle, he returned to typing down his findings. Miguel stood in front of a mirror, taking in his now stronger appearance. He could lift over ten tons his weight, much like you.

"Side effect, eyes have become a red color and are sensitive to light. Senses have also increased, allowing me to hear, feel and even sense what others are thinking. Needs to be trained and nourished more to use in field."

"Miguel? Can I come in, please?" You asked, knocking against his door. Miguel threw on his lab coat, hiding his information,

"Yes,"

Planting himself on his seat, Miguel watched as you entered his lab. That bright smile on your face as you saw him. Miguel covered his mouth, smirking towards your blush towards his chest. Hopefully you won't tempt him too much.

"Are you sure you're alright? You've been cooped up in here for two days. I brought you some food," You said, holding up your cute little lunch bag, "I can put it aside if your not-"

"I'll eat it. I skipped breakfast," Miguel motioned you over.

He watched as you skipped over, opening your bag. He hid his smirk as you stared at his broken desk before continuing to get the lunch out. As you did, Miguel tensed as a new and strange scent caught his nose.

"(Y/N), are you wearing a new perfume?" Miguel asked. You tilted your head,

"No? Do I smell?"

"No, no," Miguel furrowed his brows finding the scent sweet, "Why don't you feed me? I'm starved."

Miguel resisted a groan as you took your place on his lap. The scent was getting stronger as you fed him. Miguel couldn't even focus on the food. Staring into your eyes, Miguel felt something almost primal in him act up.

"(Y/N), come to my place tonight."

"Okay," You agreed so easily.

It was difficult, but Miguel held back and behaved himself. He couldn't help but feel around your waist, needing to touch you. This had to be his Spider instincts kicking in. It had to be, what other reason would Miguel have the strong urge to fuck you?

"Miguel, you sure you're okay? I worry,"

"I'm fine. Just come to my place tonight and wear something that will excite me."

Leaving you with a peck, Miguel returned to his studies of himself. Now that he was a superior human like you, he could begin his plans for domination. To begin his plans to expand his rule of superior humans.

"Now, to test my stamina."

----------

You were on cloud nine. Was tonight finally going to be the night? Miguel just told you to wear something that would excite him! The amount of sexy new panties you had were going to finally be put to use!

Nearly squealing in joy, you hurried to your office to finalize some work before heading home. As you made your way to your office, you stopped in front of Aaron's shrine that some of the workers put together.

It was a shame. Aaron seemed like such a nice guy. To think that he was the one who caused the explosion and almost hurt Miguel. Miguel had told you everything about the incident so that you wouldn't worry.

At least Miguel was safe and sound.

Shaking the thought away, you hurried to finish you work. All that mattered was that Miguel was okay. Although, you were worried since he locked himself inside his lab. You wondered what he found that had him cooped up in there.

Recalling his strange behavior recently, you tried to think if anything in the explosion could have affected him. It sucked since you weren't as smart as half of the people in this building.

"I wonder...if I should wear perfume?"

---------

Miguel sat on his couch, waiting for you to arrive. He had done all the testing he needed in order to know that it was time. Miguel was going to make sure you didn't leave his apartment until you were pregnant. He didn't care how many hours it would take.

You belonged to him.

Catching that familiar scent in the air, Miguel stood and hurriedly opened his door. There you were, standing there with a shy look on your face; your scent oh so sweet. The dress you had on was tight, exposing your breasts ever so slightly.

"I'm not taking you to dinner," Miguel told you as he pulled you inside, "But good job on listening to me."

"O-Of course," You nearly stuttered as you fell against his chest, "Um, Miguel...have you been working out?"

Ah, so you finally noticed. Miguel just smiled as he grabbed your hand, gently biting your fingers. You scent getting stronger, causing Miguel to act more rashly. Thoughts of breeding you began to cloud his judgement.

"(Y/N), you'll do anything for me...right?"

"Yes,"

"Good girl,"

---------

You weren't sure what was coming over Miguel. He was acting a little strange, but it wasn't like you were going to question him. Miguel's hands were all over you as he brought you to his couch. You couldn't help but grow excited as you thought of what was to come.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled as Miguel kissed you. His hands were firmly on your waist. Each kiss grew more and more aggressive and hungry. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, exploring everywhere as he pinned you to the couch.

"Irresistibly sweet." Miguel groaned, his hands stroking up your thighs, "Unable...to think straight."

"Mhm, Miguel?" You muttered between kisses.

You gasped as Miguel picked you up and carried you to his room. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, feeling your panties get damp. This was escalating to an exciting point. Once in the room, you yelped as Miguel threw you on the bed.

"I don't care if you cry, I'm not stopping."

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. If your pussy could talk, it would be swoon right now. You took off your dress as Miguel removed his shirt. Sitting before Miguel in your underwear and bra, you were waiting for his orders.

"I've had you wait long enough. Lay down and spread."

You bit your lower lip and did what Miguel said. You were a little embarrassed since you knew your panties were soaked. You gasped as Miguel hovered over you, kissing you again as he took off your remaining clothes.

You arched your back, moaning into the kiss as Miguel started to rub your clit. His pace grew faster the wetter you got. Your body was getting hot and needy. Miguel's mouth was all over your neck, sucking and biting, leaving as many marks as he could.

"Hah~ Ah, M-Miguel~" You cried out, trembling in pleasure.

"Who do you belong too?"

"Ah~ Ah~ Y-You, You, Miguel!" You whimpered.

Miguel's fingers had dipped into your cunt, pumping inside of you at a fast pace. Tears had started to form, feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst. Right when you felt yourself about to cum, Miguel removed his fingers.

"M-Miggy! P-Please!" You begged.

You whimpered as you watched Miguel lick his fingers for the first time. His pupils were dilated and filled with lust. This was a first and new look. Miguel grunted as he took his pants off, revealing his dick, which seemed bigger than before.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

Miguel grabbed your legs, throwing them over his shoulder as he positioned himself. His breathing was irregular along with yours. Miguel's dick poking right at your entrance, begging to be let in. Begging to fuck you.

"Fuck, say it again." Miguel demanded, pinching your clit. You arched your back, squirming slightly,

"Miggy~"

With a sharp cry, Miguel slapped his hips into yours. Your body shivered as you cam from insertion. His dick slamming right inside you, stretching your gummy walls out. His tip smashed against your cervix.

Miguel grunted as he gave you no time to rest from your climax. His hips were rough as he slapped himself into you. His dick bullying your cunt with no remorse. You flung your head back, crying out in pleasure as Miguel's dick rammed into you.

"Miggy~ M-Miggy~"

---------

Miguel felt sweat roll down his forehead as he held your hips. Why did he have to wait so long for this? You were made for him. Your pussy was sucking his dick so well. The sloshing sounds it made as you cried his name. Everything was perfect.

Groaning lowly as you cam again, Miguel felt you squeeze around him so much. Webbing your hands to the bed post, Miguel kept focus on what he was doing to you. The rim of his dick around forming a white ring from your orgasms.

"Made just for me. My perfect match." Miguel grunted, fastening his pace as he felt his high coming, "Sucking my dick so well. You just want my child, don't you?"

"Yesh~ Y-Yes~" You cried.

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he slammed his hips into you, finally releasing his first load. After months of waiting, Miguel was finally breeding you. Slowly removing his dick just to admire his first work, Miguel cussed lowly.

"Perfect, but so wasteful. Do you want to disappoint me?" Miguel hissed, watching his cum drip out of you.

"N-No,"

"Then drink every last drop."

--------

You cried and whimpered as Miguel pinned you into mating position, fucking you relentlessly. His dick hitting your cervix, causing you to gasp and twitch with every thrust. Your cunt unable to stop wanting Miguel as he made his dick at home inside of you.

Your vision was starting to blur as your mind grew fuzzy. This was only something you could only dream of. Miguel's dick bullying your cunt. It felt so good. So right.

"Drink up."

"Mhm~"

Shivering, you moaned as you felt Miguel cum inside you once more. It was so hot. Taking a moment to catch your breathe, you slowly regained your vision as you looked up at Miguel. He had a wicked smirk as he looked down at you.

"M...Miggy~" You whispered tiredly. Miguel just chuckled,

"Awe, tired already? We've only just begun."

--------

Your face was pressed into the bedsheet as Miguel fucked you from behind. You could barely feel your body anymore since it was so sensitive. Each thrust made your body shiver and your pussy clench. You were so fucked out that you couldn't even think.

"My stamina outranks yours by a mile. It's only been an hour and you're tapping out already? Hm, I suppose I did go overboard for your first time," Miguel muttered.

"Mhpm~ Ah~" You moaned, cumming hard as Miguel slapped his dick into you a bit harsher.

"My mating instincts have finally passed as well. Just don't expect any rest any time soon. You will be caring my child. The future of humanity."

You just babbled nothing but nonsense as Miguel gave you one last load. Unable to keep yourself awake, you felt yourself knock out.

---------

Miguel sighed as you fell asleep. He turned you around, watching the mess of a work he did. He definatly went overboard, but you had to get pregnant. Fixing you on the bed, Miguel lifted your hips and legs up against the bed frame, wanting to make sure his cum stayed inside of you.

"Lyla, keep track on (Y/N)'s health. I want any updates of bodily changes."

"Yes sir, also your suit is ready."

"Hm, I suppose tonight is a great night to start my reign of terror. While I'm out, I want you to start transferring all of (Y/N)'s information and paperwork to this address."

"You haven't told her that she will be living here,"

"(Y/N) will agree...and if she doesn't, I'll just fuck the idea into her."

"Understood."

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo @cicithemess @babyprofessorsharkpalace

[justmystyles]

The Morning After

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,583

trigger warning: vomiting

summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.

a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy? 

It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself. 

The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note: 

For the lightweight in my life. 

xH

A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened. 

“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly. 

You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.” 

You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze. 

He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share. 

You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?” 

“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?” 

You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight. 

He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”

It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?” 

He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.” 

Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned. 

“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology. 

“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”

You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”

“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.” 

“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone. 

“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…” 

Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”

Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?” 

You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words. 

“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.” 

Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 

Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.” 

When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. 

You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper. 

“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?” 

“Toothbrush…” 

He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”

You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you. 

“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly. 

You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth. 

His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”

You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse. 

Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”

You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”

Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.

“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms. 

“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing. 

“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”

You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.” 

“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful. 

You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake. 

Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?” 

You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.” 

Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly. 

“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe. 

He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head. 

“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him. 

“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles. 

You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements. 

He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.” 

I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him. 

When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. 

You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”

Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?” 

“Definitely.” You say without hesitation. 

He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly. 

You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.” 

“What can I do for you right now?” 

“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.” 

Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?” 

You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”

“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you. 

You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”

“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.” 

“Your girl…” You sigh. 

He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?” 

“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.” 

Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.

You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet. 

[wreckedandpolemic]

dancing is a dangerous game - matty healy

(mdni) in which a last-ditch attempt to garner respectability may just hold the key to your lovelorn heart after all... 10910 words.

warnings: fingering, oral (f receiving), period-typical misogyny, excessively purple prose

You snap the Society Papers shut with a huff, glowering at your mama over the top of the paper. As if it weren’t bad enough to be married off to some stranger, must the entire ton know about it? You already know what they’ll say; false compassion murmured behind fans, just loud enough for you to hear. Poor thing. Three seasons out, the family must be getting desperate. That marriage is sure to be a loveless one. Perhaps there’s something… not all there about the girl. Your fists clench, blinding anger rising in you the longer you stew over your predicament. Sold off like cattle to a man you don’t even know, your entire marriage a spectacle in which you’re an unwilling performer.

Well. You know Lord Healy, in much the same way a chamber-maid knows her mistress. You remember him well, his last season your first, every girl in your set tripping over herself to catch his eye. You remember him as handsome, certainly, but little else; not worldly or clever, not remotely interested in propriety or the role he long should have stepped into by now. Content to just lounge about, rakish, his utter lack of interest in taking a wife had only served in making the mamas more ambitious and their daughters more desperate. Then, as the season came to a close, he had announced his distaste for polite society and disappeared, ostensibly to travel the world.

His return had already been sure to cause a stir, not in the least after his mother had sent yours a letter you can only imagine to be pleading for you to take him off their hands. The news had spread fast, gossip travelling faster than wildfire among the gentry, and you can’t imagine the bedlam he’d been greeted with when he docked has made him any more amenable to the idea than you are. And yet, you can hear gravel crunching under wheels and hooves, your skirts splayed out and arranging you into a perfect, demure little picture as the shackles you’ll wear for the rest of your life stroll up the steps to your door.

“You’ve a caller, my lady,” says the maid, curtsying hastily as you wave a hand to have her beckon him in. 

Getting to your feet as he enters, your breath catches slightly in your throat. He’s more handsome than you remember, once-cropped curls now loose in a halo around his head, the silver in one ear standing out starkly against the dark backdrop. His sleeves are rolled up, and… good Lord, does he have a tattoo? As if you weren’t enough of a laughing stock to the ton, the only man willing to have you is a pierced, inked rake whose defining characteristic is flagrant disregard for the aristocracy. He holds his hand out to your mama, bowing politely. “Lady Marlowe. A pleasure to see you again.” His voice is smooth and rich, yet tinged bitter, expensive coffee poured over your senses.

You curtsy to him as he turns to face you, taking your hand in his own, calloused from hard work and smudged with ink. “My lord,” you murmur, eyes to the floor as he lifts your hand to his lips, warm where they meet your skin. Something sparks between you, flaring to life as you meet his eyes.

“Miss Marlowe. So lovely to finally make your acquaintance. I was rather… shocked, to return to England and find myself betrothed, but I suppose I ought not see a woman so beautiful as you as anything less than a blessing.” You flush, swallowing hard. Of all the reactions you might have expected from your first meeting, this certainly isn’t a turn of events you could have predicted.

You give a high, tinkling laugh, polite and artificial. “You flatter me so, my lord. I am not deserving of such–”

“You certainly are,” he interrupts, his smile disarming. Your traitorous heart longs to trust in his honeyed words, your rational brain desperately beating out the smoke before anything can catch alight. “Would you care for a turn about the garden? I find it so stifling to be cooped inside on days like this.”

With your mama following at a distance, you loop your arm through his and allow him to lead you through the garden. The last lingering raindrops clinging to the grass wick into your skirts, cold and grounding as they brush against your stockings. “My lord,” you begin, low enough that your mama won’t overhear.

“Matthew, please. I have spent three years travelling the world simply as Matthew, and I’ve taken quite a liking to it. Lord Healy sounds to me like someone rather tiresome.” The nails of your free hand bite into your palm. It’s all very well and good for him to flout every maxim of polite society, scoff and bite his thumb at whomever he likes; you don’t have that luxury.

You’d been perfectly happy to live as a spinster, well-learned in the thin line you’d have to tread for the few remaining years before the season closed its doors on you, and you resent that he has the luxury of walking out of his own volition, that open arms were waiting for his return. “That isn’t proper, my lord,” you reply, clipped and irritable.

Lord Healy’s answering smirk is exactly what you’d expect, louche and irreverent. He leans close, and you shiver. “Fuck proper.” You give a shocked little gasp. “Listen, darling. I can tell there isn’t anywhere in the world you’d like to be less than here, but I’m afraid this is our lot. The way I see it, proper’s what’s trapped us like this. Won’t you break the rules with me? It can be our little secret.”

He smiles earnestly, and you feel a sick sense of guilt even as you swoon. So charming and handsome that he could have had any woman he liked, now saddled with a girl best known for being a lost cause. And yet there’s something undeniable and sincere in his eyes, and you find yourself meeting them boldly. “Very well, Matthew. I suppose a little secrecy never hurt anyone.”

“Well, I’m glad that we settled that. I suppose if we’re to spend our lives bound together in matrimony, we ought get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, love, please.”

You smooth your skirts, the practised spiel springing easily to your lips; the laundry list of qualities that might make you a suitable wife, a successful mother. “I am accomplished on the pianoforte. I am fluent in French. I am talented at needlework.” You don’t even attempt to sound as if you care for any of it.

Matthew makes a short, disparaging noise. “That all sounds… incredibly dull. I feel as though you agree, love. I want to know what you enjoy, not what you think might please me to hear.”

A flush creeps up your chest, a traitorous stain high on your cheeks. You aren’t certain whether that question has been asked of you once in the last ten years. “I am… an amateur novelist, I suppose. I was, in youth, a skilled fencer, although I am out of practice, to say the least.” The admission feels tight as it escapes you, a confession that belongs buried in the drawers of your writing-desk under piles of correspondence and spilled ink.

Matthew smiles, boyish and almost fond. “A fencer. You must remind me to cower behind you, should we ever encounter bandits.”

Scowling, you slip your arm out of his and fold it across your chest. “If you were going to tease, I don’t know why you would ask.” That butterfly of hope you had foolishly allowed to flicker in your chest is snuffed out, and you curse yourself for even letting it take root in the first place.

A warm, concerned hand rests against your arm. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to be hurtful.” He draws a deep breath, tipping his head back and exhaling slowly before he speaks. “I know this isn’t remotely how either of us pictured spending this time. But, truly, I am trying to make the best of a bad situation. I’d like to make this as painless as possible for the two of us, so I implore you to humour me, just for a little while. And I promise, if the thought of being my wife still reviles you by the time we’re wed, you’ll live out your days wanting for nothing with as much freedom the constraints of society allow you.”

His words are sweet, flowery, surely born from the ink staining his hands. On the surface, it sounds a charmed life, an ideal outcome; to you it’s nothing more than empty words, the bitter taste of arsenic disguised in sweet almond marzipan. You’ve long accepted living without love, made your peace with the pitying looks of the ton, and yet he presents you with further ways you might be humiliated, arranges them on a silver platter like you wouldn’t notice the rotting centre.

You aren’t an imbecile. You understand what such a marriage would mean for your already-tattered reputation. You can practically hear the murmurs, read the gossip rags, feel the prying stares. Can you believe it? The new Lady Healy couldn’t keep her husband’s interest for even a month. I can’t say I’m surprised. Always an odd one, wasn’t she, like a repellent of the opposite sex. Certainly, you’d be free, with your husband in any bed but your own, but free only to wither and rot in the darkness of his country home with only a swaddled heir for company.

It’s been too long since you’ve spoken, Matthew expectant at your elbow. “I don’t believe I have much of a choice, my lord,” you murmur faintly, and his face falls.

Your conversation is stilted, polite but stiff as you make your way back to the house. At the door, Matthew bows to you, lips warm against your hand. “Please, think on what I have said. I eagerly await seeing you again.”

No sooner has he climbed into his carriage than your mama practically accosts you trying to climb the staircase. “Well?” she demands. “What on earth did he say to you?”

You sigh, fighting the urge to bury your face in your hands and scream. “Not an awful lot, mama. That is what happens when you attempt to force a rake and a spinster into matrimony.” Folding your arms across your chest, your mama presses her lips into a thin line, displeasure etched into her features.

“You are not a spinster, dear.”

You scoff. “No thanks to you. I hope that whatever agreement you reached with the Healys is worth the cost of my happiness,” you say bitterly, not staying long enough for your mama to formulate a response and sweeping up the stairs. For the best part of an hour, you sit at your writing-desk, quill poised above parchment, writing and scratching out the same handful of words over and over in a Sisyphean rhythm. By the time you decide to give up and go to bed, ink-stains blotch your hands and bloom across your skirt with nothing at all to show for it.

Your sleep is restless, dreaming of engagement rings looming into shackles, binding at your wrists and ankles. Matthew’s smirk and his honeyed words drift through your dreamscape, a cruel torment disguised as remedy. Relief fills you as sunlight slants across your bed, your eyelids cracking open and letting you shake off the dream. You sluice cold water across your face, scrubbing the sleep from your eyes gratefully. Naturally, though, your relief is short-lived, your mama bustling into your room with three housemaids in tow, far too chipper for the hour.

“Good, you’re awake. Come, we are to the modiste this morning,” she says firmly. Resistance is futile, so you stand, letting yourself be primped and squeezed and poked at until you at least resemble a respectable lady. You rattle through the streets of London, the bustle of the city only serving to feed your longing for the worn paths and quiet streets surrounding your country house.

You hesitate deliberately at the door to the modiste, long enough that your mama scowls in frustration and seizes your arm harshly to drag you inside. The seamstress bustles over, your mama immediately lighting up and engaging her in conversation about the quality of her fabrics. Quickly, you tune it out, wandering idly across the shop floor. A hushed conversation drifts into your ear, and you pretend to be admiring the bolts of fabric stacked to the ceiling as you inch closer to its source.

“...Cannot imagine he’ll stay that way,” says a first voice, high and haughty. “Lord Healy was always the rake of his set, and has since travelled the world, surely… sampling many worldly women on his travels.” She pauses to allow her companion to titter snidely, giving you time to place her voice; it belongs to Evelyn Mountfitchet, a girl your age who had married in her first season, her tongue sharp and cruel, weaponised with her seemingly endless stores of gossip. Her companion, then, must be her sister Elizabeth, surely thrilled to be out in society and now privy to scandal. “I tell you, he’ll take what he wants from that girl, then leave her ruined and without a ring. It wouldn’t even be the first time,” she adds smugly, and you feel a pit open up in your stomach.

You hadn’t even considered the possibility of such a scheme, and now you feel even worse the fool for not seeing it. Everything dichotomous about him clicks into focus as if Evelyn has lifted opera glasses to your eyes. It couldn’t be plainer — his sweetened words, promising what he surely knew he couldn’t provide; his disinterest fading into persuasion as he determined you a desirable, susceptible target. You’re trapped, utterly and completely, worse than you’d thought. Until moments ago, the worst-case scenario had been living with a husband who carried on behind your back, with at least the respect tied to being a lady to cushion the blow. This is worse than you could have imagined. Lord Healy is going to leave you utterly ruined, whether you give yourself up or not: if that is precedent, that will be what the scandal sheets announce, that will become gospel to the ton, leaving you cast out, dishonourable, utterly unmarriageable. You won’t even be able to retire peacefully as a spinster with the stain that will stick to you.

“My goodness!” gasps Elizabeth, shocking you back to the present. “Who is the poor girl?” She sounds eagerly scandalised, a voracious little gossip-monger in the making.

Evelyn makes a non-committal sound. “I know not. The family are being ever so tight-lipped. Although, I suppose I should be, too, knowing my fate was either to have my daughter married off to or ruined by a man like him. Do you know he has tattoos? As if he were a shipyard worker or some other such lowlife,” she scoffs bitingly.

“He is ever so handsome, though. Perhaps the girl is so vile of face that his progeny will save the family from ruin. Or overwhelmingly poor, and they–” Elizabeth’s excited diatribe is cut off by exaggerated hushing, and you slowly sink into a chair as you attempt to process all that you’ve heard.

“You shouldn’t speculate so. Not where anyone could hear, at least.” Evelyn’s smirk is audible. “It is most likely that the family are simply desperate, that the girl failed to capture any man’s attention in her seasons, and must be married before she winds up in spinsterhood.” She pauses to giggle. “Perhaps it is the Marlowe girl.” Your blood runs cold. “Pretty enough, I suppose, but ever so odd. Fits the bill exactly, I’d wager.”

Nausea roils in your stomach. Having the news broken at a debutante ball would have been scarring enough, even with dozens of other girls for the vultures to circle. But having it found out early, allowing the scandal sheets days to pick over you and your history before you even set foot in a ballroom? It’s the stuff of nightmares. Delicate footsteps pick their way toward you and you scramble to stand, ducking around a corner to escape from view. No such luck, though. “Darling, where did you go?” your mama calls, obnoxiously loud. “I must see how this fabric will look against your complexion.” Face flaming, you pick your way back to your mama and the seamstress, letting them drape a delicate lilac silk across your shoulders.

“Oh, how wonderful you shall look, miss,” the seamstress declares. “Your engagement shall be the talk of London, I will make sure of it.” Your heart sinks, so fast and far that you’re sure it lays in two pieces in your slippers, Evelyn and Elizabeth exchanging a proud, shocked glance, and you know for certain you’ll be plastered across every gossip sheet in London the instant they come off the press.

You grit your teeth. “Yes, I am certain it will.” Your voice comes out scraped over gravel, your venomous glare in the sisters’ direction most definitely not helping matters. The dresses you paid for will be beautiful, to be sure, but hardly worth the stinging slap of humiliation you endured to get them.

When Lord Healy calls on you the next evening, you don’t even attempt to hide your scowl, listless as he attempts to ply you with flattery while leading you into the gardens. “News of our engagement will reach the gossip rags by morning,” you warn, tone flat and eyes directly forward, lest he disarm you with that deceptively sweet smile of his.

“Bollocks,” he swears. “Nobody in this godforsaken city can mind their fucking business.” His jaw clenches, furious, and you hate yourself a little for how undeniably attractive you find the emotion on him.

“Must you be so vulgar?” you snap. “Are you not putting me through shame enough for your selfish goals that you think it fair to humiliate me even before this farcical engagement meets its end?” The words come out bitter, corrosive and acrid on your tongue, genuine hurt written across Lord Healy’s face. “My lord,” you add poisonously.

His nails dig into your arm, halting you in your stride and forcing you to face him. “Are we really back to my lord? Damn. I had thought you might be warming up to me.” He throws you a grin that you’re sure makes the women he’s used to weak in the knees. When it doesn’t work, he switches tack. “Look, love. I don’t know what you’ve heard to make you think so lowly of me. I would have thought you of all people would know not to believe the scandal sheets, but–”

“Do not patronise me,” you hiss, wrenching your arm from his grip. “I know that you were engaged before, that you ruined some other poor girl. I know that you plan to do the same to me. I plead that you at least allow me some final months of dignity before you leave me with nothing.” Something sour has rooted in your chest, decaying from the inside out; your insides withering to match your reputation.

To your surprise and disgust, Lord Healy tips his head back and laughs. Revolted, you start to turn away, and he reaches his arm out. “That’s what this is about? Love, you couldn’t be more wrong. I was never engaged, I was courting the girl.”

“Oh, well, I’m ever so glad that was clarified. I suppose it shouldn’t matter, then.” Anger is boiling in your veins, his flippant tone only serving to further enrage you.

Lord Healy takes your hands, his skin soft and warm against yours. “If you’d let me finish,” he scoffs, but there’s fondness colouring his tone. His wide, brown eyes shine earnestly, and something convinces you not to pull away. “That girl was a friend, and I was doing her a favour, I swear it. She needed a way out of the ton, all its rules and restrictions, in order to live and love freely. And she is. Much happier these days, lives a more honest life than this.” He waves his hand, collecting your house and gardens in one insouciant motion. “I’ll take you to meet her someday, if you like. If you won’t be too scandalised by the kind of unsavoury company I keep,” he adds with a smirk, and some of the ice in your veins thaws.

Really, you have no reason to trust Evelyn Mountfitchet over him, spiteful woman that she is. Mollified, you slide your arm back through his, and his relief is palpable. “I’m not such a delicate flower, you know.” You pause, weighing your words carefully. “That was a kind thing to do for her, knowing what the scandal sheets would say.” You’re certain you know what sort of love the girl wanted, to necessitate such a sure and dramatic departure from polite society, and it’s a comfort to know where he stands in regard to such relationships. “I think that, perhaps, if it is til death that we may part, we ought to be friends,” you say cautiously. Matthew’s answering smile is brilliant, so dazzling that your heart melts just a little, like fondant on a hot day.

“I’d like that very much,” he says softly, something like affection in his gaze. “And, it was only the decent thing to do. I hate to see a friend struggling, especially not when I could help. Besides, it was rather mutually beneficial — the ambitious mamas kept away as if I were diseased,” he laughs.

“And now you are saddled with me,” you say. It’s intended as a joke, but it comes out self-deprecating and a little pathetic. 

“There are far worse women I could be saddled with,” he says, playful enough that you aren’t offended. He pauses, still and pensive. “Truly. You are a most unique manner of woman, and I mean that in the most earnestly complimentary way possible. If I were the marrying type, I would surely have devoted myself to capturing your affections.” You flush, pressing an embarrassed palm to your heated cheek. “I must commend your skills in deception, to convince so many that you are undesirable. Kind of you to allow the other girls in your set a chance.”

At that, you laugh outright, clapping a hand to your mouth in embarrassment. “It isn’t an act. I simply have no time for such things. Or, had, I suppose. I should have liked to be a spinster and utterly invisible to society, but I see that fate had other plans.” You wander your gaze over him, the soft curve of his mouth, the gentle slope of his cheek, the alluring lines of his body. You wonder, briefly, if maybe your life isn’t over. Maybe, just maybe, Matthew is a gift.

Something must change in your expression, because Matthew mirrors it exactly, a fond smile crossing his face and his hand moving from your arm to low on your waist. The contact is thrilling, scandalous and precious, a thing to be held onto and treasured. “We do make quite the pair, don’t we?” he chuckles. “An aspiring spinster and a rake with the heart of a romantic.” It’s eerily similar to what you said to your mother, yet woven through with the thread of gold that links you; a flimsy, frail thing, but shining nonetheless, and you allow the hope you had killed to flutter back to life, a butterfly beating its wings against your ribcage.

“A romantic, hm?” you begin, circumspect. “I don’t know if I believe that. If you are only playing the rake, you play him very well.” You hope your tone is coming across light and teasing, that you’re only curious at his motivation behind the falsehood, if one exists. “I have seen your behaviour firsthand, you know. Three years past, my first season out. You were quite the catch, and I don’t recall seeing you ever dance with the same girl twice.”

“Do you want the truth?” You nod eagerly. “My first season, I truly looked forward to the prospect of finding love. But there was never any thrill, any excitement, any romance. Every girl just a two-dimensional caricature of what is considered desirable, and most just sold off to the highest bidder. It’s all so proper, and it disgusted me. Earnestly, it reviles me that you haven’t a choice in this arrangement. If I could grant you one, I promise I would in a heartbeat.”

Your chest warms, heart softening with every word, passion spilling over every syllable. “I know,” you say softly, and mean it.

“The reputation as a rake came that year, I suppose. Polly and I came to the arrangement that we would pretend to court, and I would leave her ‘ruined’ and free. The scandal sheets simply ran with the idea, and I didn’t stop them. It kept the expectations off of me, but the more I came to know how the rest of England lives, the more I was overwhelmed by the sheer unfairness of it all. A friend of mine, my best friend, is deeply and irrevocably in love with a woman, a beautiful, kind, intelligent woman. The kind of love that should be shouted about from the parapets and paraded in the streets. And yet, he is forced to love her in secrecy and solitude, because she is not the ‘right kind of woman’ for a man like him.”

You frown, filled with sympathy for these lovers. “It sounds like a love story in a novel I would be forbidden from reading.” He laughs, liquid and mellifluous, the sound worming its way into your chest and cradling your thumping heart. “Well, that explains the rake. When does this supposed romantic heart come into play?”

Snorting, Matthew digs you in the ribs. “I’m getting to that. So impatient, aren’t you?” Something about those words runs cool water down your spine, a feeling you can’t place buzzing to life under your skin. “When I left England, I fell a little bit in love with everyone I met. So many people, so many places, so many lives, all unique and blessed in their own way. The wide world is true poetry, and I suppose that I long for a romanticised place in it.”

Your tongue feels thick and clumsy in your mouth, words you might struggle for hours to pen falling easily and thoughtlessly from his plush lips. For the first time, you notice that your mama has retreated inside, affording you the tiniest moment of snatched privacy. Emboldened, a wave of brazen desire overtakes you, so strong that you go lightheaded. Your mouth opens without permission, words spilling free before you can stop them. “I think I’d like to kiss you.”

Matthew smiles, eyes crinkling as one of his hands comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. The simple touch makes you weak in the knees, your gaze curious as he leans down, so close that his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. He murmurs one simple word. “Please.”

Your lips connect, head spinning as his mouth moves against yours. You’re floundering a little, at a loss in unfamiliar territory. Time slows around you; Matthew’s lips on yours the only feeling you know, your head going hazy like you’ve drunk far too much wine. It feels like you’ve been struck by lightning, like you’ve lived all your life in a sketch and suddenly been ripped into three dimensions.

The world blurs around you, grounded by his hand at your waist, his lips on yours. It’s all top lip, shockingly chaste despite the passion spinning between you, all your desire poured into the kiss. He’s breathing heavily when you pull apart, lips slick and face flushed. “Was that… I… I’ve never…” you trail off, suddenly riveted by the grass beneath your feet.

“Then you are a natural,” he praises, and you flush impossibly redder. “So adept on your first try, darling. I’ll surely die a happy man if you continue to kiss like that.”

“So presumptuous,” you tease, audacious bravado fuelling you. “Who says I’ll continue? Perhaps the desire has been flushed from my system,” you say with a smirk, laughing when he clutches his heart in mock-horror.

“You wound me so,” he laughs, taking your hand. That butterfly seems to have multiplied in your chest, a kaleidoscope of them fighting to burst free from your chest the longer his palm warms yours. 

You find yourself forlorn when he leaves, the mere hour you spent in his company having shifted your worldview on its axis. As you had expected, your engagement is plastered across every gossip rag you come across, but you don’t find yourself debilitated by it; you have a confidant in Matthew, at the very least, and a chance for companionship to bloom into something more. You don’t dare tease yourself with the word, refuse to prop open the window for him until you’re certain of what you want.

That night, your pen flies across paper, inspiration flowing free. You even pen a letter to Matthew that will never again see the light of day, a messy, raw untangling of your sudden feelings that bares your soul uncomfortably. Instead of dreaming of shackles and snide words, your head is filled with sparkling jewels and soft lips, hands in your hair and… You wake flushed and sweating, the mirage of his touch still on your skin, certain that you wear your shame plain on your face.

To make matters worse, your mama has invited a dozen respectable, recently-married ladies to pass the morning in your home, insisting that you must become acquainted with your peers in ladyship. Among them, of course, will be Evelyn Mountfitchet, sharp tongue poised to entertain the other ladies with a colourful recounting of your every misstep disguised as concern. Really, it’ll be an open forum to discuss your shortcomings while you’re forced to smile like you’re being lavished with compliments, and you’ll hate every minute of it.

Nonetheless, you are dutiful first and foremost, and knowing now that your married life shan’t be an utter torment buoys your spirits a little as your maid laces you into a sage-green daydress. Sipping at your tea, you peruse the morning’s scandal sheets, grateful that the vultures seem already to have moved on. The day’s transgression appears to be a lord having taken a fancy to a merchant’s daughter, leaving the family horrified when he presented her at dinner. You really ought to stop purchasing the gossip rags, but your curiosity wins out each time your fingers hover over the paper. In all fairness, the gossip is already printed — is there such harm in you being one of the hundreds of readers?

You curtsy idly to the women as they cross into the parlour, mentally reciting their names over and over to save yourself from any faux pas. Tight, awkward smiles and knowing glances thrown at your expense across the table in lieu of conversation, until the silence is miraculously broken. “My compliments to your cook, Miss Marlowe. I don’t know that I have ever been so delighted by tea and cake in my life,” says Mrs Vincent, a woman you remember as having a good, sensible head on her shoulders. You had been rather disappointed when her attentions were captured, hoping that you might have found a friend whose ideals lay in a similar bent to your own, but she and her husband seem a true love match, which is rare enough that you cannot begrudge her for choosing happiness.

“You are most kind,” you say, grateful for a conversation topic that allows you to hold your own. “Our cook comes from France, brings with her the most wonderful French cuisine.”

Evelyn titters snidely behind her hand, and you swivel to face her, annoyed. “Don’t you find it rather fanciful? Personally, I prefer a good, honest English meal. But, I suppose you ought ensure your palate is discerning to the tastes of your betrothed. He has rather a taste for the European, no?” The implication is clear, the other ladies watching with bated breath for your response.

Careful, practised calm holding you still, you take a pointed sip of your lemonade before you reply. “My betrothed is well-travelled, certainly. I could not be satisfied with a man who has no regard or curiosity for the wonders of the Earth beyond our borders.” It’s a simple, dignified response — that doesn’t acknowledge or address her insult. Exactly what the women at the table expect. You can see pity in their faces; they think you haven’t perceived it at all. “Although…” you add, a dozen heads suddenly perked up with interest. “If I recall correctly, your husband took a similar trip just months after you were married. Perhaps you concern yourself with the wrong man’s European… proclivities.” You try not to grin too smugly, eyebrows raised across the room and Evelyn turning an unattractive shade of puce. None of the other women thought you had it in you, and you know it.

Having spent years curbing your tongue, sitting in shadowed alcoves at balls, you’ve enough repressed wit and stockpiled gossip to start your own scandal sheet, should you so choose. Keeping your lips sealed and your cards close had seemed the best option when you were aiming to avoid notice, but with your position changed, you suddenly harbour a most esurient need to make the ton take notice of you. “Would anybody else like to offer their unsolicited opinion of my intended, or should the discussion perhaps turn to something more productive and befitting women of our station, hm?” 

Newfound respect is written across their faces, carefully reframing their social games in order to take you seriously as a player. You even enjoy the conversation a little, filing away each new piece of gossip with a grin and accepting invitations to social events you’d never have even glimpsed before today. Proud, satisfied and even a little excited as you wave your guests off politely, your mama stands smugly at your shoulder. “It is lovely to see you engaging willingly in your role, dear. Perhaps you might allow me to gloat a moment, for I recall telling you numerous times that if you would just–”

You square your shoulders. “I shan’t,” you say brusquely. Ordinarily, you’d never speak so bluntly to your mama, but the knowledge that you’ve mere weeks until you’re a lady in your own right emboldens you. “There is a difference between going somewhere willingly, and going there without complaint due to the executioner’s axe at your back. It is fortunate that Lord Healy is a good man, and one I could come to love, yes, but that could easily not have been so. He could have been any manner of man, a gambler, a drunkard, a sinner.” You aren’t yet entirely sure he isn’t the lattermost, if the heat you feel under his gaze is any indication, coiling under your skin and knotting in your chest, working its way down, down, down… Heavens, this is hardly the time! “And nonetheless I would be his wife. So, I implore you, do not mistake my acquiescence for forgiveness. I had made a choice, and you took it from me.” Your mama gapes at you as you leave, stalking into the library to lose yourself and forget all your troubles.

The passage of time escapes you, and you don’t realise how long you’ve been in the library, resting in a patch of sunlight like a house cat with your nose buried in a book until a maid finds you and informs you that you must dress for dinner. In all your distaste of the morning, your evening engagements had entirely escaped your awareness, and you dimly remember dinner with the Healys scheduled for the night.

Your ride is spent in stony, cold silence, your parents looking anywhere but your eyes. It’s not a long journey, thankfully, but it feels like an eternity before your carriage pulls to a stop and a footman helps you to the ground. You dip into a polite curtsy to Matthew’s parents, softening into a smile when you lock eyes with your betrothed. “You look wonderful. Doesn’t she, Matthew?” his mother says, nudging him unsubtly.

Matthew clears his throat, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I— Yes. I don’t quite… have the words for how lovely you look,” he says, his gaze intense as you meet it boldly.

“Thank you, my lord. You are too kind.” It’s a stiff response, measured and polite, born from uncertainty over your company.

His smile is winsome, your mama pinching your back as if to say I told you so, and you bite back a scowl. “I am afraid dinner is not quite ready yet,” he says with a polite nod to your parents. “Perhaps you might like a brief tour of the house, Miss Marlowe. It is soon to be your home, after all.”

Your mama makes a soft noise of protest. “That would be rather improper, no?” she says, casting glances at Matthew’s parents for support she evidently doesn’t find. You conceal a smirk; perhaps if she’d had a care to learn anything about the man she was marrying you off to, she wouldn’t need to be so concerned of what was proper.

“Oh, I do find the rules of propriety so stifling at times, don’t you? They are a young, engaged couple, we ought allow them a few moments of privacy. Come, we will take tea, and the men can have their whiskey and cigars. Dinner shan’t be long,” she says, and though your mama desperately wants to argue, a retort hanging from her lips, her own imposed rules of politeness prevent her — they are the hosts, after all.

Matthew takes you by the hand, the contact sending a pulse of warmth spreading from where his skin touches yours, and leads you deeper into the house. The moment you’re alone, he pulls you against a wall, his hands falling to your hips and grasping tightly. The closeness thrills you, heat prickling under your skin as he watches you with heavy, lidded eyes. “I have thought of nothing but your kiss since your lips left mine. May I kiss you?” he asks, hushed and reverent, and you nod slowly, eyes closing and head tilting up in anticipation. His lips meet yours, sweet and soft and gentle, but interlaced with a foreign, breathtaking hunger.

You melt against him, letting him take control of the kiss, determined but tender. You part your lips eagerly for his tongue, the taste of him suddenly overwhelming your senses. Breathing hard as you pull apart, you look up at him with wide eyes, feeling foolish and lovesick, some unfamiliar feeling of want pulling under your skin. “Is there really going to be a tour, or was that simply a facade to get me alone?” you tease, and Matthew smirks, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“I have often found that mixing an honest goal with an impure one can be… pleasurable… for all involved,” he answers, almost a purr. Something unknown thrills in your belly, licking down to settle in your core, forbidden. Then, his intense gaze breaks into a smile, and the tension breaks. “No, there really was somewhere I wanted to show you.”

Your footsteps echo through the cavernous halls, interspersed with breathless giggles when he pulls you a little too fast and you stumble into his arms, meeting in a sweet kiss before you start off again. You almost can’t believe your luck, that you’ll get to spend your days traipsing through these halls and kissing him whenever you like; you feel as though you’re waiting with bated breath, like pride must come before a fall.

With a dramatic flourish, Matthew comes to a stop before a grand set of double doors, flinging them open to reveal an even grander library. Your jaw drops as you marvel; stacks of shelves that must stretch the entire height of the house press against both walls, light filtering through a pane-glass window and puddling on the floor. He seems to sense your awe, his body warm at your back as he takes hold of your waist. “You seem like the kind of woman to appreciate a good book and some peaceful, private space.” He leans heavily on the word private and mouths at the shell of your ear, a shudder running through your body at his ministrations.

“I do,” you say shakily, though you can’t think of a time you’ve cared less about books than standing here with Matthew’s lips hovering against your neck.

“May I ask you something rather…” he says, slowly spinning you around so you’re face-to-face. “Improper?”

The look in his eyes is familiar, now, but impossible to define, eyes wide and crow-black. “It’s a little late to be seeking my permission for your indecorousness, no?”

Matthew smiles, the expression slow and salacious as it creeps across his face. “Perhaps,” he says, taking your hands and walking you deeper into the library. “But this is a question of a more… intimate… nature.” You’re acutely aware with every step that, should anyone else enter the library, the two of you would stay obscured from view. “I want to know…” he begins, voice low as he pulls you down onto a chaise, tucked neatly away in a shadowed corner. “What do you feel when I kiss you?”

Your heart speeds, stomach swooping as clumsy words stumble to your lips. “I— I don’t… I can’t describe it.” You lower your eyes, looking up at him through your lashes, that same, indecipherable look in his face.

“Would you like to know what I feel?” You nod minutely, breath caught in your chest. The air around you feels charged, like the minutes before a thunderstorm when your hair starts to stand on end. “I feel desire. Have you ever known desire, sweet thing? A quickening in your pulse, heat under your skin, smouldering in your chest.” Matthew inches closer with every word, pressing you back against the cushions until you’re almost prone, rucking up your skirts with one knee.

His every breath against your lips is incendiary, the feeling rushing under your skin finally given a name as you breathe out the word that might be your unmaking. “Yes.” Matthew crashes your lips together, slides a hand into your hair, all pretence at being a gentleman cast aside in favour of a frantic, consuming hunger. His tongue is greedy, his teeth sharp, pulses of pure want skittering down your spine and settling between your legs. The sensation thrills you, illicit and sharp and new, the heat of his body against yours soaking through your clothes.

“I was not entirely honest, before,” he says, and your blood runs cold. Your fear must be evident in his face, because he cups your cheek gently before he speaks. “When I said I had thought of nothing but your kiss. I thought of you constantly, certainly, but in a rather… filthier way.” His low tone washes over you, stomach clenching in some sort of sick anticipation as his lips meet your neck.

“What…” The words catch in your throat, desire clamping your neck like a vice. “What did you think about?” 

A gasp slips from your lips as Matthew catches your earlobe between his teeth, kissing softly at your pulse point and pressing a soft hand against your leg. “I thought about you while I pleasured myself,” he murmurs, and you go hot all over, your skin feeling far too small to contain all you’re becoming, your chest tight and pulse racing. “I spilled in my hand with your name on my lips. I thought of how you might look, undressed beneath me, caught in rapture. Have you ever felt pleasure like that, darling?”

His voice is low, raked over gravel. You can sense his restraint, that he longs to teach you. “We cannot. Not now, not here, not before we are married.” You taste regret as you speak, so consumed in desire that you want to discard every carefully-learned edict of society, but the warning bells that chime for this act are too much to ignore.

Matthew huffs a quiet laugh. “So, you haven’t. If you trust me, sweet thing, there are ways I can show you pleasure without fucking you.” He leans heavily on the curse, an answering thrill clenching in your stomach as his fingers find the hem of your chemise. “Would you like that, darling?”

“Please,” you gasp, a breathless invocation from wanton lips. Matthew’s hand creeps up your thigh, higher and higher until… Your eyes fly open, your entire body jolting as a spark of pure sensation catches you alight. “Oh, my God,” you cry, back arching up as he slowly circles with the tip of his finger.

“I also answer to Matty,” he smirks, and though you groan, you’re grateful for the diffused tension. Your hips move of their own accord, chasing the pleasure that spills from his fingertips. “My God, you don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he groans, his gaze fixed on your face as you slip into bliss. “Have you ever touched yourself like this?” You shake your head, whining quietly when he pulls his hand away and takes hold of your wrist. The tips of his fingers are wet where they meet your skin, and you flush crimson. “I’m going to show you how to pleasure yourself, and, tonight, when you’re laying in bed with your lights turned out, I want you to bring yourself to that peak as many times as you want; get to know your body in the most intimate way. And then,” he leans close, whispering into the shell of your ear, his filthy words coiling under your skin and licking deliciously down your thighs. “I want you to tell me all about it. As your husband, I must know exactly what brings my wife to ruin.” In the same moment, he slides two of your fingers into you, the sudden stretch between your thighs unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Matty’s thumb comes up to circle your bundle of sensitive nerves, puppeteering your fingers in and out of you torturously slow. “Can you do that for me, sweet thing?”

It takes a moment for your hazy mind to register what he’s asking, whining as your hips rock up into his touch. “Only if you go faster,” you gasp, choking on a whimper as he speeds his motions, pleasure washing over you and wiping your mind clean.

“Anything you want,” Matty murmurs, tugging on your wrist so your fingers speed up, pressing deep as your eyes roll back in your head. “Curl your fingers for me, love,” he instructs, and you obey unthinkingly, gasping as a shock of pleasure ripples through your body, drool pooling in your mouth as Matty watches you adoringly. “Does that feel good?”

You moan out an affirmative, writhing under his touch and slowly picking up a rhythm of your own, too caught in a haze of pleasure to find words for what he’s making you feel. Tension coils in your belly, your body limp and loose on your bones. “Oh, God, please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re begging for. He knows, though, somehow able to show you exactly what you need as he slides two of his own fingers alongside yours.

“Oh, love, you’re soaked,” Matty croons, following along with your rhythm and steering you to move faster, every movement sending a ripple of desire pulsing through your veins. “I think you needed this, didn’t you, sweetheart? Needed someone to show you how to feel so fucking good?” His palm is warm against the back of your hand, calluses pressing rough against your skin as your body stretches out around him. Your eyes fall closed, head swimming in slick, gleaming ecstasy. “Come on, love. Watch,” he instructs.

Obediently, your gaze falls to where your hands are joined, your wetness dripping over your fingers and a slick sound embarrassingly audible; sounding in time with the thumps of pleasure rolling over you. You moan helplessly, letting Matty take control as you fall into bliss, his breath coming in hard gasps against your lips. There’s a pulling low in your stomach, a twisting tendril of carnality tugging at every muscle of your body. A final swipe at your bud of nerves sends you pitching over an edge you hadn’t even known you were approaching, biting down hard on your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out wantonly. You flutter around your fingers, gasping and rocking your hips, chasing the high as it fades from your grasp.

“That was… incredible,” you murmur, Matty’s expression at once smug and awed. “I’ve never felt anything like it. I just… fuck,” you breathe, almost a laugh as the curse slips from your lips, the only word that feels fitting for the feeling rolling through your body.

“I promise you, darling, that was barely the beginning. Just you wait until we share a bed.” He smirks down at you, the eye contact deliberate as he slides his wet fingers between his lips, swirling his tongue purposefully, desire spiking in your core all over again. “And you taste so sweet,” he praises. “Go on, have a taste for yourself, love,” Matty urges. Cautiously, you bring your hand up to your lips, softly licking at the pads of your fingers. The taste of you is unfamiliar, but you strangely don’t hate it, pressing an eager kiss against Matty’s lips and licking carelessly into his mouth.

You trade lazy kisses for a few long, sweet moments, breaking away only to giggle against his mouth and gaze deeply into his warm, honey-brown eyes. Eventually, regretfully, you pull apart and climb to your feet, legs shaking a little until Matty loops an arm around your waist to support you. The dinner is lovely, to be sure, and his parents are perfectly pleasant, but you can think of nothing but Matty’s eyes on you, his tongue in your mouth, his fingers stretching you out and pulling you into oblivion. The barest brush of his lips against your hand, a polite goodbye, is almost enough to set you off again, a shudder running through you as a knowing smirk pulls at his lips.

Matty’s gaze meets yours, sharp and challenging, and he mouths think of me just as you leave. A flush creeps up your cheeks, and you look away, the intensity of his eyes too much to bear. And yet, you obey, moonlight slanting across your bed as you push your nightdress up around your waist. Matty’s voice circles your brain, his name sweet on your lips as you drag yourself to that peak countless times. Your body is exhausted but insatiate, an endless well of greed tapped and free-flowing. You can barely stand to clean yourself when you finally give in to lassitude, legs trembling and a voracious cramp in your wrist.

Your mama gasps in horror at the circles under your eyes the next morning, shameful imprints of your long, desire-soaked night. “Goodness gracious,” she gasps. “What on Earth kept you awake all night? Good Lord, you aren’t a child anymore. You simply cannot spend your nights with a candle and your nose in a book any longer. You have responsibilities.” You nod idly, stifling both a yawn and a smirk. “Go back upstairs. Get some rest — you might at least attempt something resembling respectability for the ball this evening.” 

Oh. In your daze, you’d utterly forgotten. Ordinarily, you’d refuse out of spite, and your mama gives a long-suffering sigh, expecting a fight. But something thrills you about showing off your engagement so publicly, staking a claim on the man so many debutantes failed to ensnare. The chance that you might slip away with him into a shadowed alcove or a private garden certainly doesn’t hurt either. So, with nothing more than a slight scoff, you go back to bed, snatching a few hours of much-needed sleep. Visions of Matty dressed in full finery fill your head, a surprising, sudden excitement growing in your chest.

You can’t hold back a gasp when your mama produces your gown; you’d never bothered examining the new season’s dresses, already resigned to misery. Your fingers trail gently over the sparkling fabric, running like water under your touch. “You shall be the most spectacular thing in the room, dear,” says your mama smugly.

The word thing hits you like a splash of ice-cold water. Of course. “Yes,” you say faintly, your voice sounding muffled to your own ears. “I must pen a letter of thanks to the modiste,” you add pointedly, your mama’s face falling. She sweeps out of the room without a word as if to say, see how well you’ll look without me.

It turns out, unsurprisingly, that your ladies are even more proficient at their craft without your mama’s hawkish gaze picking and prodding at whatever she pleases. You gaze at yourself in the looking glass, awestruck. Your cheeks hold a healthy glow, dusted with rouge that matches the stain on your lips, and as you smile softly, you realise that, for the first time, you find your reflection pretty.

Even the now-familiar cold silence of your journey fails to dampen your spirits, the glittering warmth of the ballroom enveloping you as you cross the threshold. You search the room for Matty, a little crestfallen when his wild curls aren’t immediately apparent. Of course, you shake off your parents as quickly as possible, surprised by your sudden enjoyment of the atmosphere without the crippling burden of a dance card looped around your wrist.

Lost in the wealth of colour and light surrounding you, you jolt at a gentle touch to your elbow. Expecting to meet Matty’s warm, adoring gaze, you turn eagerly, only to come face-to-face with a lord who’s practically withering into dust where he stands. “Good evening,” he says, a sinister smile revealing half-rotted, missing teeth. “May I have this dance? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You don’t think so either, but you’d be surprised if the man could remember how to button his own waistcoat. His fingers are like sandpaper against your bare arm, the sensation positively emetic. “I am spoken for, my lord,” you say, without even attempting at politeness. He’ll hardly remember it tomorrow, age-addled as he is. As if on cue, a murmur ripples through the young ladies, eagerness turning to disparagement as it reaches their mamas, and you look up to see three young men burst into the room.

On the left, the most serious-faced one holds up a pocketwatch, evidently admonishing the other two for their more-than-fashionable lateness, while the tallest one laughs him off. In the middle, you watch Matty slyly ribbing the former until he relents, smiling exasperatedly. “Ah!” you say brightly, grateful for the out. “There is my betrothed now. Good evening, sir.” You curtsy politely and blow out a relieved breath as soon as his back is turned, beelining for Matty and his companions.

“Hello, love,” he says warmly, something in your body instinctively relaxing in his presence. He takes your hand, warm in his calloused palm, and brings it to his lips. You smile a little self-consciously, hyperaware of the other two sets of eyes on you. Nodding politely to the other two men, you bite your lip and jerk your head at Matty; it isn’t polite for a lady to introduce herself to a gentleman, and you’ve too much company to publicly flout the rules of conversation.

When he doesn’t pick up the hint, the more solemn one shakes his head with an annoyed yet fond laugh, bowing politely. “Mr. Hann,” he says. “Adam, really.”

It seems to spur the other into action. “George,” he says simply, and you raise an eyebrow. “Lord Daniel, if you must be an utter bore about it.”

You curtsy, but flicker your gaze to the ceiling in the universal gesture of Lord, give me strength. “Great heavens, there’s two of them.”

Adam snickers. “Four, actually. I’m certain it shan’t be long until you discover that for yourself,” he adds with an enigmatic grin that makes you like him all the more.

“Fuck’s sake, Hann,” Matty scoffs, and you still jump a little at the vulgarity and how easily it falls from his lips. “I told you how hard I had to work to get her to like me, don’t go turning her against me now. I’m not all that likeable, you know.” He turns to you, and the full effect of his disarming, fathomless-deep gaze settles on you. You run hot all over. “Would you care for a dance, my lady? Before I allow you to be poisoned any further against me,” he chuckles, and you accept with a gentle smile.

Matty sweeps you into a waltz, leading commanding and effortless, and you can’t keep a smile off your face as you lose yourself in him. “You look radiant, love. Truly, a beauty like yours is mythical.”

Heat floods your cheeks, and you look away, demure and slightly disbelieving. “You’re quite the dancer, my lord,” you say, in an obvious and unconcealed attempt to divert the subject.

Thankfully, he allows it. “You sound surprised,” he says, mock-affronted. “I’m a musician at heart, darling, I could lead a waltz in my sleep.” You smile, but your attentions are drifting; snatches of conversation pass you by, murmured but not so low you can’t hear them. An odd pair… Surely ruin her… Heavens, look at him… Isn’t nearly pretty enough…

Matty is utterly oblivious to the noise, watching your face fall with obvious confusion. “What are we doing here, Matty?” you murmur, suddenly helpless. “Even if we could be happy together, how can that possibly be enough? Endless whispers, following us anytime we set foot in society; this stain stuck to us forever.” Pain is written clearly across his face — he wants to argue, but he’s at least allowing you the courtesy of coming to the point before he does. “You could still leave me,” you say quietly. “Find safety with the devil you know. Play the rake until the perfect girl comes along, one without all the collateral I carry.”

Fittingly, the song draws to an end, Matty pulling you to the edge of the room with eyes full of frustrated consternation. “I’m not going to fucking leave you,” he hisses, crowding breathlessly close. “You want me to go searching for the perfect girl, yes? I have travelled from nation to nation, spent days upon weeks in the open seas, visited wonders on every continent, and yet… if you were to ask me the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen? That smile, that first real smile you gave me. Without a question or a second thought. Please, darling, let me love you. See yourself the way I see you.”

Your resolve shatters, that greedy, hungry part of you that’s gone starved for love all your life snapping to the forefront in your chest. “How do you see me?” you breathe, low and pleading, hunting for an answer in his eyes.

“I know this house well,” he says, and your brow furrows at the sudden change of subject. “The thought of an audience for the maudlin display I am about to put on is almost too much to bear.” You huff a quiet, disbelieving laugh and let him lead you through a maze of winding, labyrinthine corridors until you come to an empty parlour. The air is still, quiescent, like stepping into a still-life portrait as you sit delicately at the edge of a divan. Matty sinks to his knees in front of you, resting his palms against your skirts over your thighs. “You want to know how I see you? I see a fierce, clever woman, one who has, perhaps, never been truly seen before. I see the woman I want to make a life with, who I want to share my thoughts, fears, dreams with. Who I hope will respond in kind.” Pure, earnest kindness shines in Matty’s gaze, a frail hope you recognise as a twin to the butterfly that perches on your ribs.

You can’t do anything but smile down at him, at a loss for words. “I simply… I just… I cannot…” you stammer, stopping and starting as if you’re hunched over your writing-desk.

“Do you trust me, love?” You nod mutely. “Then trust this, trust what you feel, trust yourself,” Matty urges.

Damn him. Damn him to hell. “Come here and kiss me.”

His wide, adoring smile turns to a slow smirk. “I’m perfectly happy where I am, love.” His hands fall to the hem of your skirt, slowly inching up your legs, familiar heat coiling to life between your thighs. “Now, tell me. Did you do as I asked last night, darling?”

“Yes.” The answer comes rushed, breathy, shameless. Matty gazes up at you, encouraging. “I thought of you, only you. I wished it were your hands bringing me to ruin over and over again, wished I could do the same to you.” His eyes are black with desire and your mouth goes dry. “I know that you have… experiences, and I do not wish to–”

“All that means, darling, is that I have the privilege of being the one to teach you,” Matty insists, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee. Your skirts brush against your heated skin, pushed up until he’s gazing at your exposed, glistening core. Your eyes follow him, questioning, as he leans ever closer. “You’ve felt pleasure by hand, yes, but what I really want is to get my mouth on you. Would you like that, sweet girl?”

You shudder. “Please.” No sooner has the word left your lips than his mouth connects with your core, lapping up your arousal with an ebullient hunger. A moan escapes you, blinding heat flashing across your skin. Your breathing is instantly ragged, pleasure burning in your chest as he buries his tongue deep inside you. 

Your hands slide into his hair, anchoring yourself to reality. His answering moan against your skin ripples through you, muscles tensing and loosening in keeping with your hammering heartbeat. “Just like that, darling.” Matty murmurs against your skin. “Good girl.”

The praise draws a long, pleading whine from your lips, a cavalcade of desire marching through your bloodstream. “Matty, oh, fuck,” you gasp. The profanity still feels foreign on your lips, but there truly isn’t another word in your lexicon that can describe the pure ecstasy coursing through you. 

Matty presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, smearing your arousal against your skin and licking you clean. A flash of teeth scrape against your tender flesh, pulling a gasp from you as you drag his mouth back to where you need it most. Euphoria winds under your skin, an insistent hum at the base of your skull growing louder with every passing second. His tongue works over you in sure, fast strokes, dragging you higher and higher. 

He sucks on your nerves, your legs flailing out helplessly in response. One of his hands creeps up, teasing your nerves as he fills you with his tongue over and over. A filthy sound fills the room, slick and wet and lustful, and you clench your hands into fists in his hair. You clench your thighs around Matty’s head, his tongue driving deep into you as you clench your thighs around his head, whimpered obscenities dripping from your mouth. His pace speeds, slows, never allowing you to get complacent in a rhythm, flames stoked in your core.

You’re half-delirious with it, implorations for something you couldn’t name falling slurred from your lips. Pleasure balls into a fist in your belly, hot and demanding, knocking the wind out of you as it slams into your gut. You gasp out his name in an endless litany, writhing with need as pure bliss rolls over you, loose and free on your bones. “Oh, my God,” you breathe, still pulsing with aftershocks as Matty pulls away, lips and chin soaked when he smiles up at you.

“No God, darling. Just me,” he says smugly, and you scoff. He quirks an eyebrow, licking his lips exaggeratedly. “What? Look around, love. Do you see God in this room? Or do you see a man, bringing you pleasure?” You bite your lip, chest still heaving with the tangible, real evidence of what you felt. “In any case, I am kneeling for you. Not for any God,” he finishes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, your slick obscenely visible against his alabaster skin.

Matty stands, pulling you with him, and tugs you in for a slow, deep kiss, the taste of you blooming in your mouth. “That’s blasphemy,” you say, appalled and intrigued in equal measure. “You could be prosecuted for that.”

He grins against your mouth. “Are you going to turn me in?”

Your heart thuds where your chest is pressed against his, heartbeats aligning in a perfect, rhythmic duet. “Never.”